Gay Dad

I took Simon, my boyfriend, to my mum's house for the weekend. I've never taken a boyfriend home and so was quite nervous. As I've said before, whenever my previous boyfriends have met my mum the relationship has soon come to an end. Perversely, Simon was looking forward to it – as was my mum. It was just me that spent the previous few days with a metaphoric axe hovering above my neck. As Simon loves animals and the countryside and my mum has numerous dogs and lives in Wales, the two seemed to get on very well. They spent all Saturday morning chatting animatedly in the kitchen about horse whispering and dog baskets. I sat next door antisocially reading the papers. At one point I heard Simon cheerily explaining that he was soon off to a friend's wedding… a wedding with two grooms. "Oh," said my mother. "Is it your first gay one?" "No, I've been to a couple already," he replied chirpily. I put down the paper to eavesdrop more effectively. "How interesting," said my mum. And I knew exactly which facial expression she would be using: her very unconvincing kind-smile one (think Joan Crawford in Mommie Dearest ). "Hmm," she continued, "I think if I went to a gay wedding I would just laugh." Oh dear… Simon was stumped for words and so I put the paper down, hurried into the kitchen and asked what we were having for lunch.