Why are we more protective of daughters when our sons are far more likely to be victims of criminal violence?

It’s half term so my daughter (12) and a close friend of hers (13) are both staying with my boyfriend and I in Manchester.  The Girl suggested a trip into town with her friend – let’s call her Molly, and we’ll call my girl, Lara as that’s her name.  When we suggested they might like … Continue reading Why are we more protective of daughters when our sons are far more likely to be victims of criminal violence?

Bus stop Burgundy

The male hairdresser next to me who was busy primping and joshing his client laughed and said, ‘I call that Bustop Burgundy because I see so many elderly ladies with that awful colour.’ We then had a very cheering bitch about the fact that burgundy didn’t suit Cheryl Cole who is utterly gorgeous but not even she could make that colour look anything other than straight out of a box of Superdrug Mauve Mist or whatever they call it.

Crash helmets to protect you from life’s knocks

I’m talking to a friend about roller skates.  Not the carefully designed ergonomic ones of today, complete with full body padding accessories but the seriously dodgy ones of my youth.  Held onto the foot by a single strap of leather, they were impossible to control, so we would stumble up and down the street, twisting … Continue reading Crash helmets to protect you from life’s knocks

When you can’t find your kid it’s the worst thing in the world

The Girl and I are staying with The Bear in a small village outside Manchester.  It's the kind of place where after a couple of days, shop owners use your name and ask whether that nasty rash is any better.  The weather is sunny and The Girl wants to walk to swimming lessons by herself. … Continue reading When you can’t find your kid it’s the worst thing in the world

Let Me Spell That For You

So it's The Girl's birthday soon and she's setting about organising her party with the social fervour of Paris Hilton. 'Oliver has to come.' 'Why?' 'Because he's my boyfriend mummy!' Cue rolling eyes. And that's where it starts. I say she has to invite more than one boy or poor Oliver is going to feel … Continue reading Let Me Spell That For You