This evening

February 24, 2011

I had been intending to go to and see “The Umbrellas of Cherbourg” with my boyfriend, kind of like a romantic date type thing…me, him, Friday night, bottle of wine, nice meal, teenage snogging in the back stalls, but.. today was my dad’s birthday and this evening, we have all been to the theatre.

There were lots of things to be concerned about. My mother couldn’t get up the stairs to the stalls and had to be supported on both sides all the way. Once installed – in what the stage narrator helpfully referred to as ‘the cheap seats’ – they both whispered loudly to each other about proceedings.

At one point my father leant across to my boyfriend and whispered conspiratorially about the female actress on stage. I can assure you, there is nothing more disturbing than hearing about how much your father admires a sexy young woman’s leotard wrapped body.

Despite of all of this though, somehow, going together was actually all quite lovely. Neither of them had been to Curve (the theatre) before and were wide eyed with wonder. My dad had a J20 and crisps, my mum a glass of iced tap water. Both had put on their best clothes. They were completely memorised.

Afterwards, we walked them to their car. My mother kissed me on the cheek then gave me a Tesco bag containing: ‘The Art of Knitting: Part One – with FREE starter yarn, needles and how to knit DVD’.. and a small toilet bag with Lancome samples, another bath scrunchy thingy and 2 miniature bottles of Body Shop shower gel…

Reading her my new poem, about all the things she gives me, seems only to have encouraged her.

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