The wifelet and me travelled to Folkestone yesterday to see our friend Paula and her baby Bethany. For maybe the fifth or sixth time in my "life" I felt broody! Her baby is such a cutie. I grew up with three younger sisters and referring to any child as ‘cute’ after that traumatic episode of my life is something I have never considered thinking, let alone articulating publicly before. Paula is in good form and having the child, and caring for her without her "father" around has aged her 10 years in a good way. Only my South African friend Johan’s wife, Nicky, is a better mother in my opinion. And Paula was once such a likkle girl not so many years ago…
I also learned that as a partially sighted person, BUGGIES ARE MY FRIEND. I pushed the baby around town while Paula did her shopping – she’s totally blind, so getting into town and doing what she wants is a big deal. People move themselves sharpish when they see a fat bloke with a buggy and I’m now considering buying one and pushing it around Romford, sans child, just so people move their fat arses from out of our collective way when I’m bimbling around the centre with wifey and Kizzer. No low floor buses on our local 103 route though, whereas Folkestone has loads.
A good day was had and I wish we could have stayed over the night.
Moozik: Keane and Queen (the poetic duo)
Mood: Veering left and right between hating Christmas preparation and all its trappings to somewhere close to content. Am I a bipolar depressive on the Q.T? I often wonder...
Books: Just ploughing through the goodnewsfest that is Metro in the mornings. And not doing much on the way home.
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