Standing in my towel, I said to the Lodger cum Boyfriend / whatever you call someone you are seeing / bonking / love at our age 'I need you. Come here, please.' He dutifully came up the stairs and in my semi-nakedness, I led him to the bathroom, ignoring his glee. 'Darling,' I urged, pointing right down the loo where Aiden had just done a no. 2, 'I need your opinion. Do you think he's got worms?' And there we stared for quite some time and decided not.
But you have to check when there's a case about, don't you?
We still haven't been on a date, with him moving in and all before we actually got it together. Our friendship has stood us in good stead and it's all been a bit too good to be true. I have been expecting it all to explode, but that hasn't occurred yet.

In two weeks time, Shitty Ex-Husband, Mr. 'The Well is Dry' himself, he who has inadvertently blessed us all with the extra company and interest of two more men in our lovely little bubble, who help us and protect us and play endless football with his sons, and give us all a great perspective on what a crap bloke he has turned out to be, will be here on a visit for 'Contact' with them.
He won't see me this time. I'll be making myself scarce, to see if romance is really alive and kicking. Many miles away from him and in the arms of someone new, I reckon it just might be.
Having said that, what do you do in the face of a friend asking you, in all sincerity, with regard to your new beau, while you're feeling younger and more vital than you have for a decade, whether he's any good in... the garden?