"Twin daughter's phoned last night, all is well at Uni in Scotland (both at same one, doing same course) then Ella casually says "By the way Mum, I've had my Tragus pierced. Silently mouth "what's a Tragus?" to hubby who shrugs shoulders and resumes reading paper. So as not to appear uncool, fake a coughing fit, get off phone"to get drink of water" and look up 'T' word in dictionary. Relieved to find it's "prominence on the inner side of external ear," whatever that means, but anyhow better than what I thought it meant. Resume conversation and discover their father is visiting from Australia next weekend with wife number five. I couldn't possibly criticise, I was number three, lasted longer than number two, who only managed an eighteen month innings. You couldn't make it up.
Have another, "you couldn't make it up," moment when sitting in front of computer looking at plot of my novel and reflecting on a week where Sir Elton John and his partner's show off baby Zachary on cover of OK! and Nicole Kidman and husband thank their"Gestational carrier" for delivering their new baby. If this is real life how am I supposed to top it with fiction?
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