You're right, I should probably wait until she's sixteen.
But child brides aside, I did a late clinic on Tuesday of this week, so I was allowed to leave work an hour early today. And what better way to spend that hour than by taking Lisa and Amelie down to the pier for some fresh air and fruit machines. To be honest, after my short afternoon at work, I felt like taking a long walk out to sea. Suffice it to say that anyone who saw this blog post last week and thought "Thank God no one reads Full House magazine..." needs to think again. I now know at least ten people who do, and I work with them all.
I spent this morning in Horsham, blissfully unaware that back here in Brighton, a hospital porter who I've only met about three times, was sitting on the toilet (which frankly is a detail I didn't need to know) reading a copy of last week's Full House magazine, and somehow managing to recognise me. Within hours, the article had been passed to my colleagues, and I returned to the department after lunch to be confronted by a dozen people, all of whom thought I'd written it. I spent most of the afternoon trying to convince them that I hadn't.
But still, after an experience like that, nothing you do seems embarrassing any more...
The hat suits suits her, but frankly I look like a bloke in a burkha.
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