So talkative sister was in Sainsburys yesterday morning, wheeling her trolley about half an aisle behind dad. Who went shopping in his favourite hat.

So needless to say talkative sister was shocked when the woman in front of her turned to her friend and said nastily...

FNW - I see the neighbourhoods gone downhill - they've let the cowboys out.

Now Lyds was not impressed. But I was with her, when within a second of hearing that, she stated in a rather loud voice...

Lyds - At least my cowboy wearing hat father's arse is five times smaller that yours you cow.

Atta girl. Soon we'll have you breathing fire...

Earlier this week, husband of talkative sister got the news that one of his former employees passed away at the age of 31. This was unexpected news which hit the boys pretty hard, especially given the guys age. So to show their respect, Alan was nominated to represent the company at the funeral.

Dressed in sombre attire, he drove down to the crematorium and politely introduced himself to other mourners in the congregation. And once sat down in the chapel, he sang hymns and celebrated the life on the sadly deceased.

Whose name was Alice.

It was at this point that he realised that he was at the wrong funeral. He knew it but couldn't leave. The family didn't know it but were pleased that this well dressed young man was there to say goodbye to their loved one. Made them feel special and safe.

Until he bade them farewell outside of the chapel...then strode straight back into the chapel again when the second entourage approached.

And you thought this could only happen in Six Feet Under.

The morning after...

He was suitably surprised and happy to see his Mammy turn up - which was the secret that I've been hoarding for the last three months. He had a lie in, oodles of cards, cake and even a magic egg, so I do believe that Girlpants had a wonderful birthday. But the piece du resistance was the meal. The best meal any of us have eaten in this city. Even though the staff were friendly, they were also respectful calling Girlpants "sir" at any given opportunity which I couldn't stop chuckling about. Each part of the meal was fantastically presented, complemented by the local wine which was gloriously beautiful with price to match and the crab salad - my God, the crab salad! just melted in the mouth. And now, here we sit on the sofa... All three of us.

Unable to move.

It's Girlpants 31st birthday today.

So why don't you mosey on down to South Park room A329 and buy the man with the crown a drink??

Tell him you have a secret. Let him know that you're holding back a small tiny nugget of truth.

Dangle before him and let aforementioned nugget stew

at gas mark 6.

For three months.

that about 6 months ago, I mentioned to a friend that I had never received a dozen red roses

And all I got him was chocolates of the non spreadable kind...

He may wear Girlpants, but I love him

The eve before the most romantic day of the year, and the Journal of Soci-Economics reports on a new research project on marriage, entitled

"Does Marriage make people happy or do happy people get married?"

Apparently at 18months in, both Girlpants and I should now expect our honeymoon to be over. Marriage all goes downhill from here on in. And God help us if we have children in the next two years as apparently that would really pi$$ on our marriage parade as well. We might be able to look forward to a slight happiness revival in years 3 to 5, but other than that, we won't know if we have a successful relationship until our ruby anniversary.

Optimism is a wonderful thing to have large doses of.