Friday, 8 May 2009


Some time ago I was intrigued to find myself pregnant again. A little later I was disappointed to find that No Good Boyo was the father.

My confinement has given me real insights into my spouse's daily life. For example, he has personalised settings on his computer that filter every Internet search into its nearest pornographic equivalent.

I now regret trying to augment my Hitchcock collection by Googling "remastered Rear Window".

I gave him money, name tags and a map of London before he set off for the British Museum's "Babylon" exhibition with our daughter Arianrhod. On his return I frisked his duffel bag to discover a Bob Marley t-shirt and a bottle of rhum.

He has a commendable approach to ecology, as indescribable items of his clothing also serve as dish-cloths, elementary footwear and devices used in the making of cheese as the years pass.

Paternity has not sapped his creative urge. I found a letter in my name addressed to the "Mrs Mills" column in The Sunday Times, asking for advice on "unsightly facial removal". No words had been omitted.

Finally, Arianrhod recently assured me that her ambition on leaving school is to become a "mod wolf". And I thought I had cleansed the house of Hesse.


M C Ward said...

Welcome back Mme, and belated congratulations.

Your insights into the Boyo phenomenon are always fascinating and disturbing in equal measure.

As an aside, my late father stubbornly refused to eat in any Chinese restaurant after catching a glimpse of the cook straining rice through his underpants in a restaurant kitchen in Mombasa. Not that that's probably any comfort (my point being that the practice is evidently widespread in the Orient, not just North Wales).

Mrs Boyo said...

Thank you, MC. Your father's experience emphasizes the wisdom of eating what the locals eat. I'm sure Mombasa has exquisite fish cuisine.

This rule does not apply in the United Kingdom, of course, unless you count sea crustaceans and stomach linings as food.

Gyppo Byard said...

Yes, jolly well done. Bearing anything related to Boyo can't be a picnic...

Mrs Boyo said...

And I don't like picnics either, Gyppo.