Dot writes: it’s well known that many of life’s most important conversations happen in the car. It’s because you’re together but can’t really look at each other’s faces, so there’s a kind of privacy about it. Or maybe it’s just because nobody is on Facebook or playing Minecraft. (Then again, with mobile data maybe they are.) Anyway, I was in the car with the two boys the other day and they decided to sort out some stuff about adult life.
Hugh: Mum, did you know that boys can marry boys and girls can marry girls?
Me, deciding not to start talking about next year’s referendum: Yes.
Frank: Why didn’t you marry a girl?
Me: Some girls fall in love with other girls but I fall in love with boys. So I fell in love with your Daddy and married him.
Hugh: I fall in love with girls.
Frank: I fall in love with girls too.
So that’s dealt with. Now they are busy deciding which girls to marry. In Hugh’s case this involves being a bit tragic because his latest flame, Charlotte, has another boyfriend whom she prefers to him (he says); in Frank’s it involves cheerfully listing three or four different girls and changing his mind daily about which of them is to be the lucky lady. At what point does this amazing directness stop and they go all hot and embarrassed about it?