Secondly, I seem to have accidentally gotten myself stuck into internet dating. Yes, I know, that’s twice. How daft can you be?
So get ready for some breathtaking accounts of my online adventures. Or not.
Because something weird keeps happening: Every time I click on a potential suitor’s profile, Mr Nice pops into my head. Then, of course, the poor bloke doesn’t stand much of a chance.
Because Mr Nice is just so annoyingly handsome that my heart stops to do a little dance of disbelief every time he takes his top off.
And I happen to have spent a lot of Saturday ogling said topless Mr Nice. As you do…
Well, no, as you don’t, obviously. But rest assured that I also spent the time studiously pretending not to be interested. At all.
In fact, I found bulldozing through a sandpit with my two-year old daughter and his four-year old son far more engrossing than watching him do cool tricks on his windsurf.
Ok, so this was the shortcut, but the long story, which isn’t that long really, goes like this:
chickened out ended things between us in late April (gory details here), and we decided to be friends (here). He simultaneously got caught up in difficult work and family situations, and I was (mostly) successful at not contacting him. After sitting on my hands for so long, I had to high-five myself (yes, yes, I’m allowed, special dispensation), and paint my nails (green).
Anyway, Mr Nice kept in touch rather infrequently but regularly, and we saw each other a few times, briefly, and mostly with our children.
Children are fabulous accessories in this sort of potentially loaded situations, because they negate the need for any kind of awkward conversation. They just occupy the space, make a lot of noise, and demand that you push their swing, buy them ice-cream, play the violin while doing a handstand…
And so it was that on Friday, I was trawling through my internet dating inbox, thinking that I would never manage to get through it, when Mr Nice called to invite the children and I to spend the afternoon at a nearby lake the next day.
The sky was blue, the views were stunning, Mr Nice taught my son how to windsurf, and I built an entire city in the sand-pit, complete with an airport, a school and about twenty swimming pools (yes, 2012 seems to be the year of swimming pools in the trendy world of under-5s’ urban design).
Everyone had a great time, my son is apparently a natural at windsurfing, Mr Nice has officially become his idol, and said we’d have to do this again soon.
Birdy – Skinny love: