Burnt Toast.

Burnttoast

So there you are standing in Borders with a wailing child and  a heavy heart when you notice that there  is a really rather good looking man following you around the Self-Help  section.  You ignore him and chatter on in a really rather nutty fashion to a child  going off his little head listening to your inane whittering, and pretend instead to be absolutely fascinated  by a shelf  full of books on how to put your marriage back together. And then you see it: the book your heart has been looking for: "Dumped! A Single Mother Shoots From the Hip", a tome that promises to tell you how to start a new life in Italy when quite frankly you'd expected to live in France for the rest of your proverbial....

So you pick it up joyously and skim though  the pages uttering faint yippees! of recognition at every turn, when  all of a  sudden a man shaped shadowed darkens your delight.

"You haven't have you?"  Says he.

"Haven't what?" You reply.

"Been dumped?" Say's he.

"Well  yes!"  You whisper indignantly. "After fifteen years, with  a two year  old babe..."

"...And  a beautiful face." Says  he.

You blush and smile and mutter thank you, and pick up a book on how to cure an addiction to smoking you don't have. And then he taps you on the shoulder and says, "It doesn't matter you  know, because you are going to  make a  yummy  single  mummy."

To which your son replys, "She's not yummy, she's yakky."

And you and the stranger laugh. And you feel almost human for a minute and recklessly throw "Dumped" and Teri Hatchers "Burnt Toast" into a basket already piled high with magazines, and walk away feeling a million dollars and eternally grateful to a man with kind eyes and just the words you needed to hear.

Because you may feel like burnt toast at the moment, but it sure as hell doesn't look like you are going to have to eat it for the rest of your life...

On My Wishlist...