By a series of coincidences (my coughing woke me up; I didn't want my coughing to wake the baby up so I came downstairs onto the sofa; the home phone was next to the sofa because I was ringing a restaurant earlier to book me and Parsley an anniversary dinner for Monday night) I happened to be in a position to answer the phone when it rang at midnight.
Which means this was going to be a complaining post about coughing and insomnia and the squits, but instead I can relay the following conversation, which is far more warming to the cockles of anybody's heart.
Six: Hello?????? [thinking, worried, good news always sleeps til noon etc.]
PS's daughter: [whispers in a "I'm trying not to wake my mum up because she doesn't know I'm phoning you" sort of way] It's me. I'm really sorry to ring so late. I didn't want to wake the baby.
Six: That's alright love... are you ok?
PS's daughter: Yes I'm fine... is my dad there?
Six: He's asleep... do you want me to wake him up?
PS's daughter: No don't wake him. It's just I'd promised him I'd phone him tonight, and our phone's been barred from ringing mobiles because we had a massive phone bill.
Six: Ok don't worry love, I promise I'll let him know that you rang.
PS's daughter: Please. I really don't want him to think I'd forgotten.
Six: Don't worry, I will tell him. Is everything alright?
PS's daughter: Yes, I'm fine. I don't want him to think I didn't ring.
Six: No worries... take care, ok?
So now instead of feeling down about my cough and exploding arse I am feeling the warm glow of brandy and Horlicks which I am supping alternately, and the even warmer glow of my fantastic stepchildren.
So 2 years on, Mr ParsleySage, I don't even have to THINK about whether I'd do it all again. I love you so much, y'know?
2008-05-05 @ 00:50