Page 83 of Did My Love Life Shrink in the Wash?
‘His spelling is shockingly bad too. I’d dump him over the spelling,’ Paddy adds, still scanning over the ripped quarters of the letter.
I like the bad spelling. Teasing him about it, hearing him call through from the next room asking for advice with tricky words. And I miss it: the soundtrack of conversation that was our relationship. Then I remember all the things he said on the sofa, all the hurt and upset. Everything is so fractured. A little face looks up at me. Joe. He’s mesmerised by the CD in Lucy’s hands and he watches the reflections shine off her face, trying to catch them with his hands.What do you think, Joe?
‘Bring it in the car. If there’s any eighties soft rock on there, then the deal is off.’
Track Eighteen
‘Something Good Can Work’ – Two Door Cinema Club (2009)
‘How do I feel for teeth?’ I ask frantically on the phone.
‘Well, you don’t ask him to open wide… just put a clean finger in and feel around the gums. Maybe use a muslin.’
Meg is on the phone taking my emergency call as Emma is working and Google is being as useful as nipples on a man.
Siri, why does a baby grizzle?
Here is what I found for grizzly bears.
Joe grizzles away in my arms, that low-grade sound he’s so fond of emitting.
‘Hot bananas, there’s something hard under there. That’s a tooth?’
‘Or a fang. Teething is the enemy,’ Meg lets me know.
‘You told me the enemy was wind.’
‘It comes in stages. New teeth will change everything. Does he have nappy rash?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Sudocrem. Spread that thick like butter too. Like how Lucy used to do her foundation when she was fifteen.’
I feel like I should be taking notes. Joe squirms and moans in discomfort.
‘Go to your fridge, do you have anything cold?’
‘Beer?’
‘Food wise.’ My fridge is a strange entity these days that consists of a top shelf dedicated to sauces and old pickles. The middle shelf is currently an altar of ready meals that should serve two people but regularly feed one. There’s milk, a pot of mouldy yoghurt and some blueberries for the health.
‘I have carrots?’
‘Bingo. Give him a carrot stick to gnaw on, a bit of resistance on the gums will help.’
‘What? Do I just let him suck it?’
‘Yep. Suck on that bastard; he can get his teeth into it too. Sorry, Tim.’
‘Who’s Tim?’
‘Work friend.’
I love how she’s giving me this advice from her work desk. I force the carrot in his mouth and watch as he gets his chops around it.This is new. It’s not a breast. Or a bottle. Where are its nipples?His shock alone means the noise disappears for which I exhale slowly.
‘You’re a bloody miracle worker.’
‘I’ve just had practice. What’s going on there? Are you alone? Are you still in your pyjamas?’
