I met a hot daddy today.
Whilst having coffee with my mum and Miss Rose (Miss Rose had juice not coffee I hasten to add) we found ourselves sat at a table next to a rather lovely man who was out with his six month old daughter, Celia.
We chatted a lot and my mother, bless her, rapidly established the fact that Rose’s daddy is out of the picture, and that Celia’s mummy and daddy are no longer together. She also ensured she left us alone several times, spending rather a long time in the toilet, and a lot of I time chasing Rose around.
He was delightful. Obviously devoted to his daughter and really sweet to
Rose too. We chatted about the children and I attempted to make sexy eyes at him. I often come across as either demented or constipated when I try this, but I’m pretty sure I got it almost right.
I should have seized the opportunity to give him my number, suggest we take the girls to soft play or the park together. I should have, but I didn’t. He didn’t either though, so it’s okay. Celia’s daddy is lost in the sea of hot men, but it’s okay because I am discovering that there is a sea of hot men who like kids, and some who have kids.
That fact is worth celebrating. That fact means that when I do get myself in a place where I feel able to offer my number, or suggest meetings, that there are men out there who would be willing to take me up on the offer.
I feel rather chuffed about that discovery.