Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear reader, happy birthday to you!

I know it’s probably not your birthday but at least I’ve given you the greeting when it does arrive.

I’m presuming the readers of this column are adults so I’d suggest when it comes to your annual celebrations you may plump for a few drinks, a meal or spending time with the family.

But what about when you were a nipper? How did you spend your birthday in your youth?

The rise of children’s parties continues apace in the UK with more venues than you could shake a party bag at.

In the news this week is little Alex Nash. The five-year-old has been in the news because of his parents, which seems a little unfair.

Alex’s mum and dad decided not to attend a party which they’d already RSVP’d yes to.

So far, so usual. But the sting in the tale is that the mum of the snubbed tot decided that up with the non-show they would not put – and sent an invoice for £15.95.

The bill was put in Alex’s schoolbag and his mum and dad were shocked – and none too pleased – when they fished it out.

There’s been a bit of to-and-fro between both families on social media (where else) and the story’s ended up in the media.

But it raises an interesting question: manners.

Surely if you can respond that you’re going somewhere then it also means you can respond to say you won’t be turning up.

I have to say I have a sneaking admiration for the mum whose son’s party was missed. As a parent it’s frustrating when people say they’ll turn up to parties and then don’t.

It’s not really the money either, it’s more a question of setting an example.

However, in this case the money would bother me.

How does a five-year-old’s party cost £16-a-head?

As a young ‘un my regular party venue was the back garden. I’d have half a dozen friends or so come round and we’d have a bit of a chase round the garden, a spot of musical bumps and then gorge ourselves on ham sandwiches.

There was no question of lashing out cash for a venue – certainly not at £16 a pop.

I’m sure the party, which was at a dry ski slope, would have been great fun but can you surely tell me that a game of blind man’s buff and pin the tail on the donkey wouldn’t have knocked it into a cocked hat?

It's my party – on a dry ski slope

But, I hear you cry, times have changed. Yes they have, but surely fun hasn’t.

Our children now go to nurseries more and often further from home. My parties were populated by cousins and kids who tended to live no more than about eight doors down. These days the nippers, whose parents you rarely meet, can come from just about anywhere.

Maybe the reason is we’re just not comfortable with relative strangers in our homes?

Or maybe a play gym means we don’t have to hoover up before they come and then be left trying to fish out a squashed bit of cake from behind the settee when they’ve gone.

One thing I struggle with is presents. These days, because parents (me included) have often paid for party venues, visiting parents feel a sense of responsibility to buy a gift.

The more extravagant the venue, the larger the gift. It’s like a version of the nuclear arms race – but with cards.

I used to be pleased to get a box of Maltesers from a chum, never mind a ‘proper’ gift.

It’s my son’s birthday soon and we’ve hired somewhere. If you’re a parent of a child who’s been invited I’ll just take this opportunity to let you know that I’m already printing invoices ... just in case.