The Gift of Normality

My Dear Fellow,

Today's extra pictures come from inside Tiles. I was waiting there for Princess Normal, but Princess Glamour surprised me by showing up instead.

"It took me all of fifteen minutes," she said, explaining her eyelashes, jewellery and hair.

Well, there's the magic ruined.

"Anyway it's a Friday night out," she added, "and it's your birthday dinner."

Eff. EFF! She remembered! 

I'm such a grumpy old effer when it comes to being a grumpy older effer. She just laughed at me. 

We went to Dishoom, a place I've been trying to go to for MONTHS. It's a curry-shop but themed very much in the days of the Raj. The menu is imaginative and the food beautiful, but more importantly they do a "chai-jito" and if I have not mentioned it before I bloody LOVE a mojito when the weather is warm.

It's definitely somewhere I need to take Bokhara, when he comes to visit next month.

The atmosphere in Dishoom is terrific and all the waiting staff are so friendly and kind. Speaking of kindness, the Princess handed me a card which read, "Hooray!! Another 365 Days Since You Fell Out of A Vagina!" and then promptly WET herself laughing.

"And it was my MUM'S vagina too!" I spluttered. Inside the card she had written "Don't think about it... don't think about it... don't think about it..."

The card also came with a mysterious piece of paper. Given what was written in the card, I eyed it suspiciously. The Princess was smiling delightedly. This was NOT reassuring.

It turns out to be one of the most thoughtful gifts I've ever been given. I mean, it's not like you and Er Indoors haven't given me some incredibly thoughtful gifts over the years. I still treasure the Marcella Hazan, and I'll never forget your wedding gift to us. This was right up there with them. Sitting here the next morning, I'm still so touched. I think I'd mentioned the zoo maybe once months earlier. She must have clocked something in my enthusiasm and TUCKED away the intelligence for future use.

I think it's that thought, even more than the gift itself which means something to me. I had to give the Princess a hug. She also insisted on paying for my dinner. I'm not sure if this was because it was my birthday dinner or because she loves making me "the bird". 

Afterwards, we wandered down the hill to The Stockbridge Tap and it was there that she demonstrated her "mum eyes" on me. These are the eyes she uses when she wants to express disapproval to her girls. I felt myself die inside when they were turned on me. "Stop doing that!!" I protested, trying to hide behind my hands.

We also covered sex, religion, work, foot-sex, drunken donkeys, naughty dogs, old people, technology and old people, my dad's love life, religion, half-marathons, work, silly Russian accents, more on foot-sex and antlers. 

As you can tell, it was a wide-ranging, intellectual discussion on a number of issues ("You'd need to trim your toenails") and she made me laugh a lot. 

It would have been a great pre-birthday dinner even without the giraffe. Giraffes are wonderful but I can't tell you how grateful I am for the gift of Normality in my life. There's something about her that feels like we're picking up where we left off. The odd thing is, that I think I've felt that from the very first time we had a drink together.

So I can't help but love the Princess. Even without the eyelashes and the bling. Even without the curry. Even without the thoughtful gift. Even if she was in-your-face with my mum's fanny.

Don't think about it... don't think about it... don't think about it...

Parsones