The Prodigal Daughter

Babygirl's birthday weekend all went really nicely. I had my 'beefs' with the family early in the week, so it gave time for the air to be cleared by the time we met on Sunday. No social occasion can pass without some kind of outburst about arrangements. However, as I pondered why I allow my family to wind me up so much, I realised that now I no longer smoke (2.5 months) I don't have nicotine to dull the senses, or to puff away my frustrations, so all emotional traumas are felt at full velocity. And it takes some getting used to. But add to that the combination of no job, no sex, and PMS, and you have a recipe for one very irritable individual.

Father of Clarke, was late to collect us on Friday to take us to dinner for her birthday. His girlfriend was late back with the car and hadn't phoned until it was too late to warn him she would be either. Hmmm. Trouble in paradise? We had a really nice time taking our daughter out. It's the first time we've done anything like this for her birthday, as she usually has parties, and for a couple of years things weren't that great between us so I don't think either of us would have wanted to break bread. But we worked through it, and now have a great relationship as Clarke's parents. He has been very supportive while I've been going through the purple patch, picking up the slack where needed (financially people), and basically making sure that Clarke's needs are met. More often than not Dad's are getting a kicking for being absent fathers, but there are many men who are real positive influences in their children's lives, and are more than present for them. Big up your chest, you know who you are.

On Sunday it was the family's turn, mum, sis, lil' bro, Godmother Shazby, and Baby Mimi. Tootsies is a place we've been eating at since we were teenagers and now we're taking our kids there. Going to a restaurant with my mum reminds me of the TV programme The Real McCoy (one of the best comedy shows on TV). They had a sketch where a West-Indian woman and her daughter would go to a restaurant, and pull out plates and cutlery from their shopping trolley. Mum is scanning the restaurant checking the surfaces for dirt, and the plates for cleanliness. Don't ever make the mistake of buying her something from a West Indian take-away, if it's fish you can bet money she will taste it and say: "Dem never clean de fish properly."

Sometimes it feels like more effort than it's worth trying to get the family together. But when you do it, Clarke's happy, everyone's happy she's happy, and we have a great time. So why don't we do it more often?