Don’t Say a Word. A. L. Bird
picked me up from the trash.
Literally.
And I don’t count the ensuing cup of tea in the caff as a date. I certainly hadn’t shaved my legs.
But before that, I need to look into childcare. I’d rather not have to introduce Dan and Josh just yet. They do that later on, in the films, those yoga-fit airbrushed mums (yes, I’ve seen the Hollywood version of my life. Doesn’t it all just turn up roses?). Date five or something, you go to a picnic by a lake and everyone falls in and it’s really funny. You’re not meant to introduce your kids to every man you meet or they’re weighing them up as a potential dad. Which is particularly unfair when your kid doesn’t know his real dad. Thinks he’s dead.
I pull out my blackberry. I’m about to message Tim about the child minder details. But I see they’re already there.
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