So it’s finally happened. Well I say finally, she is only seven, but it was only a matter of time. Bea has a boyfriend. She came home yesterday from the leisure centre where French schoolchildren spend half-term if they’re not skiing glowing with the news.
“I’ve got a boyfriend, I’ve got a boyfriend,” she chanted all around the house. I asked all the obvious questions like what does he look like, where does he live, what do his parents do, can he ride a bike, does he play rugby, where does he go to school?
“He looks like a girl,” said Bea. “And he’s got a girlfriend.” Then she went back to singing and prancing around the room like a ballerina on acid.
So not a great start is my conclusion. Rupert is more concerned for the boy, Sammie as he is called.
“In Papua New Guinea they advise you that if you have a car crash you should head for the airport immediately and get the first plane out of the country,” he said as he watched Bea celebrate her new relationship. “I strongly suggest Sammie does the same.”
Copyright: Helena Frith Powell 2008