Go on, Dad

I’m still mentally down at the Brixham pirate festival this week. The memories (and the sunburn on me boobies) is lingering. Of course all the photographs on Facebook are helping to keep it alive ( them memory, not the sunburn). Roll on next year.

On our last night there we sat in our pirate ship, which was cleverly disguised as a caravan,  having a couple of tankards o’ grog when I announced:  “I’m not really hungry but I want to eat something.” Boofuls looked at me hopefully. Lashes misinterpreted his look and said “Go on dad. You’re on holiday.”  It was only when I said ” In your dreams, Boofuls ” that she realised what his smirk was about.  Her face contorted into one of horror as she realised where his dirty mind had led him to. What followed was many ‘eeeeeews’ and much shrieking.  So funny. I laughed so much I nearly bought a round!

On the subject of Lashes. She, as of Friday evening, is now the official ‘fee-on-say’ of Len.  Apart from the fact that I’m really pleased for them both as they are a perfectly suited couple, I quite like the transition from ‘partner’ which sounds like a business arrangement, to ‘fiancée’ which has a lovely romantic sound to it.

Poor old Len had been a wreck all day knowing that he was going to propose that evening.  All credit to him, he did the whole job properly and went for the full down on one knee approach. of course she said yes.  Boofuls and I got an emotional and tearful  phone call at 1.00 a.m. from Lashes telling us all about it.

Nice to have some good news, eh?

 

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