Monday 22 May 2017

A wee football trip

Taking the boys to their football games is such a constant joy, nay the highlight of my week. There's nothing I would rather be doing on a Sunday morning than getting up at some God-forsaken hour and driving up hill and down dale around West Yorkshire following sat-nav to some field, somewhere where it's muddy, raining and blowing a hooley (please note heavy sarcasm and the subliminal angst in my cathartic heavy usage of the keyboard as I type this).

This week it was away, somewhere in a field in Halifax, with son 2 Daniel (numbered by arrival into the world not preference to reiterate from a previous blog on the subject of offspring numbering).

On arrival at our destination in Halifax, Daniel and his dad recognised the pitch and started recalling memories of their previous visit, the weather, where the pitch was, where they parked, the score, who scored etc (sad, very sad the male aptitude to memorise football trivia, yes, you heard right male, other more PC blogs are available, just not at withdewrespect).

I also recognised the location and cheerfully chipped in: "Oh I remember Daniel, they didn't have any toilets and I needed a wee so I had to drive miles to the nearest civilised supermarket with a loo and I missed most of the game."

They both looked at me and Daniel replied: "I'm sure you weren't with us mum, it was just me and dad."

Dad confirmed this was indeed the case.

I wracked my brain, fully recalling in minute detail the toilet trauma.

It was quite some time later than it finally dawned on me; it was actually child 1, Teddy, I had brought to this pitch, not Daniel at all!!!!

Clearly a minor detail in my random memory bank.