After travelling Australia for two months Dad wasn't particularly interested in having a massive party for his 60th, so Sunday the immediate family (eight of us now) gathered in the city to celebrate.

We'd booked lunch at Antica Gelataria del Corso on Collins Street for 1:30pm. Ange and I arrived at the restaurant slightly late, but that didn't matter. Though Sarah had called to confirm, twice, they had still managed to lose our reservation. Of course that didn't matter either as the chef wasn't even rostered on to work Sundays!

With the Melbourne Romp in full swing, it would be difficult, but surely somewhere would have eight seats to spare. We settled on Chinotto, a little eatery in Federation Square that offered us a table sandwiched between two immovable bench seats (more on those later).

Service there was slow, but we were happy with our meals when they arrived. Although a request for more drinks sent the waiter running in the opposite direction and we never did get that 2nd round. Strange indeed.

When our stomachs were full and the conversation had died a bit down we left Chinotto, but not without incident. You'd think with a gathering to celebrate a 60th there would be a senile moment. And there was, only it didn't come from the old man, it came from me.

Remember those seats I mentioned earlier?
Those bolted-to-the-table-never-to-move-again benchseats?
Well, as I was trying to navigate my way between two of them my foot got caught and gravity took over, sending me crashing into a strategically placed stainless steel box. No damage down (to me or the box) but I bet it was one hell of a show.

The first rule of showmanship is to leave your audience wanting more, so we escaped back up Street to the new Koko Black store at the top end. Once there Sarah revealed the real reason for the trip to the city: They were talking him to see the Priscilla musical. He was thrilled. (Apparently he's a big fan.)

As is the family way, we all overindulged in the chocolate treats on offer. The chocolate ice cream martini I ordered was both fantastic and the envy of the table and I recommend it. The waitress had accidentally made one too many Iced Mochas so Dad, being the birthday boy, got to have two servings.

I wasn't that interested in seeing the musical. (I'd watched the film at least a dozen times while studying it for high school media class). So Ange and I said our goodbyes and headed home, leaving them to the mercy of 70's disco songs and brightly coloured drag queens.

Happy Birthday, Dad.

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