- My wife informs me that our daughter (12) has a boyfriend.
- I die; I lament the rapidly approaching loss of my beautiful, innocent little girl; I recall the thoughts that inhabited my 12 year old boy brain, and I wince; I am told in no uncertain terms by my wife that I am to be “positive” and “supportive” of this development, and to be grateful that we have successfully fostered a domestic atmosphere in which my daughter is comfortable to share such information with us; My murderous feelings barely suppressed, I start playing Hitman again, taking unsettling pleasure in the calm and premeditated killing occurring at my hands; I frequently swear quietly under my breath, sometimes muttering his name; I raise the issue with my daughter, replying with platitudes such as “that’s good” and “he sounds nice”, despite hating this young boy whom I have not met to my very core.
- My wife asks my daughter if she has kissed this boy. She recoils in horror at the mere suggestion, adding “it’s really awkward when it’s just me and him and we don’t know what to say.”
- I am reborn.
I also dug out some of my favourite pictures of the girl taken over the years x
So wifey has gone and got herself a writing job. She’s going to be penning columns relating to various issues associated with suffering from and living with CRPS (Complex Regional Pain Syndrome), a condition she developed in 2011.
The piece is made by the photo, though. Whoever took that must have been a photographic wizard, right? RIGHT?
We just got our wedding pictures back. The Parfitts x
The happiness of marriage expressed through dance