One of the great things about writing a blog is that, if you’re really lucky, people will begin to read what you write. Sometimes they’ll come back again and read some more of it. And if you’re very very lucky, when you’ve been trying to write something humorous at the time, you might just possibly make somebody laugh.
I wrote a post here a while ago called, Charles Aznavour and me, and if I’m honest I thought I was being pretty funny with it. Amongst other things that particular piece was about my mother’s love life. Regular readers will know that I always refer to her as Cruella. I wrote about my mother’s attraction to small Frenchmen and how I bore an uncanny and worrying resemblance to the singer Charles Aznavour. I still blame the eyebrows.
Well, l received an anonymous comment about that post recently. The reader thought I should even things up a bit on the parental front and include an equally pithy narrative about my father because he was probably just as much of a fruit cake as my mother was. The reader’s words, not mine. But it’s funny how people who’ve never met you before and know almost nothing about you, other than that you have an interest in spreading mayonnaise on you’re husband’s feet, can suddenly prick you conscience. It’s true, I certainly could never describe my parents as a match made in heaven. My father isn’t French and he’s terrible at singing karaoke so I guess on some level their relationship was almost certainly doomed from the start.
Despite being divorced and sometimes unavoidably absent my father did try his best for me. When I was growing up he always used to instil a moralistic code with words like, when you make a mistake you are still beautiful, or, if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. And never were those latter words more relevant than when, aged 12 and already displaying signs of an interest in interior design, I’d attempted to single handedly wallpaper his kitchen whilst he sat in his front room obliviously watching the late evening news. But the great thing about my father is that he’s always lived by the same advice he gave to others too. So despite having 4 marriages (including the one to Cruella) he’s still beautiful and still trying.
“A great marriage means falling in love with the woman over and over again,” he told me once, “unfortunately I’ve just never been able to successfully do that with the same one I was married to at the time.”
I don’t think my father regrets leaving any of his wives. Nor does he seem to regret growing his hair, buying hipster jeans, or being forced to wear a Fitbit. Of course if he hadn’t done those things he’d never have met Amber and started dating her. As long as my father avoids making any cultural or historical references to events prior to 1992, never reveals he hasn’t a clue who One Direction are, and avoids having a heart attack, then I think the two of them will probably have a terrific future together.
I just hope that makes my anonymous reader as happy as it seems to make my father.