I am not a grown up. At the grand old age of 28, I posses none of the ‘traditional’ indicators of adulthood: a partner, a house, a job (let alone a career), a pension, an appreciation of fine red wines nor a taste for olives. In fact my very self rebels against the whole notion, even my skin refuses to mature past the age of about thirteen. I suffer from chronic itchy feet syndrome which means that I am clinically incapable of staying put for any longer than about a year. I say suffer , I don’t feel like I’m suffering at all, I’m actually having a marvellous time which makes it very difficult to stop...
The only thing that I can claim that is remotely grown up is my gorgeous godson George who is five and the perfect excuse to eat Haribo for dinner, run around pretending to be Buzz Lightyear and go to the zoo at any and every opportunity. Not that I really need an excuse to do these things but if that’s what it takes to win the best godmother in the world award then I’ll willingly put in the hours ;)
So in an effort to preserve what sanity I have left, I hope to document my probably feeble attempts at becoming a little bit more grown up whilst venting about the ridiculousness that is the modern wedding to strangers that won’t scalp me or cry if I scream at them!
