You see?
Sam had become very, very large. From too much special breakfast. And too much cake. His room had got too crowded because of too many presents. Spock had not seen daylight for some time because the knight’s helmet and tunic had been lying on top of his cage since Vicky had gently removed them from Grandpa Sam.
And Sam hadn’t just changed physically. He’d changed as a person. He’d stopped writing thank-you notes (to be fair, he’d had to write a lot of them). He’d stopped even saying thank you when he got presents. He’d started demanding bigger and bigger cakes, and more and more exciting parties.
Meanwhile, for the rest of the family, things had got considerably less lavish. Since halfway through the year, Charlie and Vicky (and Ruby) had been eating mainly baked beans on toast. For almost every meal. And now, further on in the year, they just never went out (except to take Sam, of course, to the cinema, or the swimming pool, or a climbing rock, or paintballing, or wherever, on his birthdays).
On Charlie and Vicky’s own birthdays, they hadn’t given each other any presents except cards, which they’d made themselves. And they never read anything any more – they used to devour books, and newspapers together – except, it seemed, credit card bills.
Then on the third of September, this happened.