When I was just a little girl…

My Dad has always, always, always gone out on a Friday night, since before he even knew my Mum he’s gone to a mens club locally with a couple of friends. There are only the two of them now, although from time to time Ady has gone with them and I imagine two men nearing 70 have a slightly less wild night than they used to 30 odd years ago and over the years it has gone from being something my Mum loathes with a passion to a night of the week she actually looks forward to for being able to watch whatever she wants on TV without Dad’s constant sneering comments (BB being a case in point, although generally I have to agree with Dad, my Mum does watch crap!). So he always used to get home around midnight. When I was very young Friday night would always be the source of arguments – tension before he went out leading to him coming home drunk and beligerant and spoiling for a fight with me trying to get to sleep before the rows started. In latter years so had the good sense to go to bed and be asleep herself before midnight so Dad used to come and talk to me. He’d sway into my bedroom, perch on the side of my bed and regale me with what we both used to call his ‘when I were a lad stories’. He’d tell me about his childhood, talk about his both dead by then parents and share tales with me I imagine he never really told to anyone else. Certainly my Mum and brother would never have been interested let alone been priviledged to hear them. Fast forward a few years and as Friday night became a night out for Dad and I the first home would often wait up for the other and we’d share countless drunken chats. He’d tell me the bloke who’d hurt hurt me was worthless, cuddle me while I sobbed about how much I loved him anyway and we’d swap crazy drunken stories. We used to test who was the most drunk by coming up with a silly word which we had to remember in the morning. I bet if I was to say ‘shampoo’ to my Dad now it would make him laugh and he’d know exactly what I was refering to! When I was little my Dad always used to say he was the best friend I’d ever had and d’you know, I reckon he is. Hope my children realise the same about me one day eh.

So tonight, after Davies had gone to bed and Scarlett was long asleep, Davies came back down to have a wee, came into the lounge where we were drinking wine and beer and eating dry roasted peanuts. He sat down and shared the nuts, refused a taste of the wine or beer which made us laugh and we started talking about how as a child I’d been just like Tarly and loved to slurp from my parents glasses. I was telling him how my Dad had let me try brandy and whisky when I was not much older than he is now and how I’d spat it in the sink cos it was so horrid! Which led to a whole hours worth of ‘when I were a lass stories’ from exploits at playschool, memories of Saturday night steak and chips and Dr Who, my parents orange 70s kitchen, naughty things I did (it started as a how much like me Tarly is conversation) and more. Clearly a Friday night Davies tradition coming through. 🙂

What else then? Dreadful night with Tarly and a musical beds game during the night, not at all sure what that was about which led to a late start to the day. After a very slow start we got out of the house to go to Sainsburys for food shopping which was busy and slightly fraught, came home to drop the food off and shove some stuff in the free cool bag I’d got for buying five stickered items and we drove nearly to the seafront (only about a ten minute walk but very whiny and tedious with small people), parked down a side road and walked into Brooklands, which is a large green area across the road from the beach with pitch and putt, a miniature train, ice creams, a lake and so on. We found a good spot for eating and had our lunch, then Davies wanted to do some climbing on some huge ornamental rocks they have there. Scarlett had clearly discovered her sense of danger which has been absent thus far and refused to climb them incase she fell off!!! 😯

Davies then needed the loo so we traipsed over to the toilets, passing the train on the way with me promising that if it was at the platform when we came back we’d go on it. And there it was so we did! We then walked back to the rocks at which point D said he needed the loo again, went very pale and then green and confessed he actually felt ill. So we called it a day and came home. Briefer than planned but we might go back again on Monday if the weather is ok, or we might do the beach actually, complete with buckets and spades. 🙂

Once home D recovered so we had popcorn and they played Zoombinis, we did some drawing and watched some Discovery Kids. There was a big shouty interlude (mostly me :oops:) and then the children went to bed, Davies came back down which brings us back to the beginning of the post. He is also now asleep, I have drunk a bottle of wine and am fighting the urge to text / phone all my friends and tell them how much I love them (yep I’m at that stage of being drunk!) and watching Lisa come out of the Big Brother house.