Picture a dimly lit nightclub with lots of strobe lights, loud pumping house music and lots of people.  A UK DJ playing a banging set. Me, in there somewhere with S, out for a dance.  Dancing ensued. Lots of dancing, laughing, talking, dancing.

2am rolled around and the others we were with decided to call it a night but S and I decided we had a bit more boogie left in our shoes.

5am, the club closes and we make our way out into the early morning.  The boys S had been talking to invite us back to their place for a cup of tea to ‘start’ Saturday morning.  What the hell, we both think, they live in the next suburb to me and we can share the cost of a cab then walk home.  They seem nice enough.

Tea in hand, I go out to watch the sun rise from the balcony.  And one of the boys comes out and joins me.  And we start talking.

…

and that is how your Dad and I first met.  Ten years ago today.

And we’re really glad you could join our family and make it three. Thanks for a lovely afternoon at the pool with your mum and your dad on their anniversary. We love each-other.

P.S.  And even when dropping me home that morning he looked at my struggling vege patch (I’d just got back from overseas and had only just started to dig the garden in my new sharehouse) and told me that he’d love to help with it, I still didn’t get that he was into me.  Doh.

P.P.S. And the vege patch did take a while.  First Christmas present – a fully grown vege patch, all in pots, that he had hidden in a storeroom each time I’d gone to visit for the preceeding two months…

P.P.P.S.  Maybe that’s why we took so long to get around to having you.

P.P.P.P.S.  Happy Anniversary Lovely Punchy Man

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