Subscribe: Subscribe to me on YouTube

Sunday, January 12, 2014

Early indications from the catwalks of Milan are that this season's dominant trend is for baggy coats with long sleeves...

I think the idea is to hide your skeletal figure. It makes shoplifting easier too.

Obviously when you’re raising kids, it’s important to teach them that you can’t always rely on your supermodel good looks to make it in life. Just look at me. They’ve clearly got me nowhere. So it’s vital that you have something to fall back on, and the good news is that in addition to her advanced modelling skills, Amelie’s now set to take the world of musical theatre by storm. After all, there’s always plenty of acting work available, so she’ll never be unemployed.

Using Lisa’s vast network of benefactors, we’ve managed to do a deal with The Little Smarties theatre school, whereby they offer us half-price rates for a term, on the grounds that we’re poor, underprivileged, and have suffered enough by having to live with Amelie. Their sessions last for three hours, so it’s clearly money well spent, as it gives me and Lisa our Saturday afternoons back. It’s just a shame they won’t take Toby.

Yesterday was Amelie’s first class, and details are currently sketchy, as all she’s prepared to tell us is that she did a bit of clapping and sang a few songs, but I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before she’s scouted by a top talent agent and is funding our next holiday with the lead role in a Ready Brek commercial.

Unfortunately, there could be some tears before then. And not just when she learns to cry convincingly for her next acting role. It’s a well known fact that Amelie’s only happy when I’m around. No, seriously. She’s put it down in black and white, and she’s not the kind of girl to lie...

That says "Amelie is not happy . Only when Dad is around". I’ve added some punctuation, otherwise it could be interpreted differently.

Tragically, on the evidence of that note, Amelie’s going to be sad until Thursday, because I’m actually writing this at Gatwick Airport. Yes, I’m getting the hell out of Dodge. And going somewhere far more dodgy. I’m actually on my way to Birmingham, and whilst I could get a flight to Alabama from here, I’m actually catching a train to Guildford. And then another one to Brum.

I’ll be at the Heartlands Hospital until Thursday, taking part in an Advanced Grading Masterclass by day, and catching up on sleep at night. It’s the first time I’ve been away since September, when I went to a conference in Newcastle, and when Lisa told Amelie about my trip yesterday, she responded by recollecting this treasured little memory:

"The last time Daddy went away, he ate five doughnuts because he missed us so much".

Now, the sad thing is, that’s true. But I’d forgotten all about it. So it’s reassuring to know that my five-year-old daughter remembers these important life events. I actually Skyped Amelie from the Travelodge in Newcastle, where I was having to binge on doughnuts as some kind of separation anxiety coping mechanism.

There’ll be none of that this time though, as I’m on a diet. So I’ll have to turn to drugs instead. And having watched Benefits Street last Monday, I know exactly where to get them. I’ve also been helped by Amelie, who’s given me a lock of her hair to remember her by. It’s actually this hairband, but it amounts to the same thing, and I was forced to pack it in my suitcase. She also posed for this photo with Toby...

They might be trouble with a capital T, but I’ll miss them nonetheless. And I include Lisa in that too.


Phil's Mum said...

Aaaah! They'e lovely. You'll never manage to stay away till Thursday!

Zed said...

Parting is such sweet sorrow - like eating a bag of doughnuts and then regretting it.

Lisa said...

Amelie wants to wear that coat to school and I feel like eating 5 doughnuts and a yum yum.