Kissing gate

We have a bit of a tradition here at famille DHG…

Whenever we encounter a kissing gate when out and about on a walk, the first person goes through, then kisses the person behind, who goes through, then kisses the person behind… and so on and so on until the last person is through.

We were out on such a walk on Saturday – clear blue skies, crisp frosty ground with a dusting of snow – a beautiful day. We came across a kissing gate.

Young McGrew sped to the gate and climbed up onto the bottom bar, his arms over the top bar, hanging on. He then proclaimed, ‘I am the kissing gate!’

Under normal circumstances, this would be fine. He would get to kiss the entire famille DHG, and everyone would be happy.

But we didn’t have normal circumstances. Oh no. As McGrew rushed to the kissing gate, he overtook a group of 5 other random people (random in the sense that we had no idea who they were, and still don’t!).

Thus, group of random people is now between McGrew and the rest of famille DHG.
McGrew is the kissing gate.
Random people now need to pass through the kissing gate.
You can see where this is going, can’t you!

McGrew exclaims again, to first random person, ‘I am the kissing gate!’ and offers his lips for a kiss!

First random person looks behind to Mrs DHG with look of some confusion / concern / bemusement. Mrs DHG just smiles and nods.

First random person is kissed by kissing gate McGrew.
As is the second.
As is the third, fourth and fifth.

We may have to ensure we are alone before negotiating another kissing gate!

Uncle Mitch

Peacefully, at Stirling Royal Infirmary, on Friday 7th November, 2008, James Mitchell Currie (Mitch), aged 87 years, originally from Gretna, dearly beloved husband of Elspeth, devoted father of Jim, dear father-in-law of Laura and a much loved grandad of Melissa and Lucy.

I spy

Playing I spy in the car on the way back from the bonfire and fireworks this evening (which was a great success – all the boys loved it)…

Mummy: I spy with my little eye, something beginning with ‘r’
Boys: silence
Mummy: what begins with ‘r’ that we’re just about to drive round?
Boys: silence
Daddy: Is it a roundabout, mummy?
Cuthbert: No, daddy. A roundabout begins with ‘a’

Mummy (while driving): doubled over laughing, trying hard to keep the car going in a straight line!