We found each other on some dating site. Turned out we both loved music, so we batted some emails back and forth before he suggested a drink.
Saturday night found me in a bar, staring at my watch. I was on time. I’m always on time. He was late. Really late.
He finally arrived, sweaty and unapologetic. As he slid into the seat opposite me, he said he had to tell me something:
“You know, I’ve never been on a date with someone with kids before. I always knock back the single mothers straight away. I’ve no interest in kids, I don’t even like kids. But your picture was really nice so I thought I’d make an exception for you.”
Ah! Sound the Date-Killer Klaxon; turns out I’m on a date with King Herod.
It was never going to work. I’m a package deal; I come with two kids who are the centre of my universe. I’m never going to date someone who hates the idea of children and being a step-dad. (I made that mistake with another ex, that’s a story for another time.)
I’m classy me, so I do enjoy a nice Piña Colada once in a while (not so much getting caught in the rain, but I’m getting sidetracked).
Anyway, this came up in conversation the other day and the Smallest Daughter was rather taken with the drink’s name.
So, if you come round ours and wonder why on earth SD keeps cheerfully bellowing “PENIS COLARTA!” and giggling herself stupid, well, that’s why.
During the Great Fire of London, Samuel Pepys buried some of his most treasured possessions in his garden, to protect them. For homework, Smallest Daughter was asked to write about—and draw herself—burying her most treasured possessions.
I had to send in the following note with her artwork:
“Hi Mrs F.
I did explain that burying is appropriate to save inanimate objects only. However, SD was absolutely insistent that her family is her most treasured possession. So, that’s why she’s drawn this slightly disturbing picture of her burying us all in coffins in the garden, in case you were wondering.