“Alright Mum, this is me bitch”. That was how I was introduced to my future Mother-In-Law. In my head I thought, what the hell did he just call me?? F**king deadman! Is this how they do it in London?? Are we going out?? I’ll be nice though…for now…first impressions and all that. In fairness though, what did it really matter? It was 2.00 in the morning, in one of the dodgier pubs along our road at the time, The Temple Bar, everybody had been drinking except me, the music was banging and the place was rammed. We’d probably have to be introduced again anyway.

Eleven years later (he obviously survived the “bitch introduction”) we’re married with kid. To be fair though he really confused me to start with. I met Hubster through working in a pub, I’d seen him around…around every bloody woman it seemed but I dunno…I just liked him. His friend said he was interested in me too…this was good…I was never any good at the whole chatting-up thing, in fact if I liked someone I’d usually end up avoiding them. By jayzus was it awkward though…I remember once, he was justing standing on the edge of the dance floor with a beer in his hand, so I grew some balls and went over to say hello. I said hello, he said hello, we stood there then, side by side like two k**bs on the edge of the dance floor not looking at each other. I’d kinda given up at one point, thinking his friend was just saying he liked me to keep me sweet but one night after a long close shift at work, I met said friend on his way home. Get in, he says, P wants to see ya. I won’t I’m wearing Mickey Mouse pjs under this coat…no chance and how would he know I’d be walking to the 24hr at 3 in the morning…cop on! Get in, he says again, I’ll take you to the shop and drop ya home, it’s on the way. Hmm…ok. In I get…straight down to P’s house! FFS!! There was a bit of a house party going on and I wondered how quick I could make an exit. I didn’t have to…P did look surprised to see me but we spent the next three hours chatting in his kitchen…YES! Ye dirty feckers…just chatting! There was even a time when I thought I was being used as a cover for something else. It was about two months after the “bitch” incident before we actually did the “dance without pants”. (Parents, family…we have a child, it was not an immaculate conception). I’d been out of a relationship for two years and was practically throwing myself at him but to no avail. All sorts were going through my head…turns out, he told his Ma, who later told me, that she knew all about me pre-bitch introduction and it was out of respect that he didn’t take advantage of my unvoluntary celibacy. Aaaah bless…see there are some gents left in the world.

Of course we have our ups and downs, but I knew about 6 months in, I wanted to marry P and that’s something ‘cos some of our worst rows ( not that they were ever really epic) were towards the start, still I knew. Imagine I nearly asked him myself! He still has a ring now that he doesn’t know I bought for that very reason. Plus if I had of done that he wouldn’t have tried picking an argument over the washing up with me..huffing off to the bedroom to come back with an engagement ring for me.


He is really good though despite being a moody sh*tehead at times (which of course I never am). He works, he does his share of cooking and cleaning…even has his own little recipe book he’s compiled himself. He puts the washing on, irons and he makes the bed…sometimes with me still in it…seriously! He makes me laugh, he wrecks my head, he sometimes even surprises me with words of wisdom :). He makes nice tea and he gets in the bin to squash it down. He gets on well with my family and the people I care most about, he loves me and he adores our son.

He’s crap at DIY.

Most importantly he’s a great hubby and a brilliant Daddy.

My hubby, my friend, my grump, just mine.

Happy Valentine’s,

Love Donna xx