On sunday after church and after completing our weekly food shop, when I was ready to curl up on my bed with a magazine, when I'd expected two members of the family to be working on a school project, my hubby shouted 'adventure time'! So we headed into the city centre where within minutes my youngest announced that he needed a poo and was 'DESPERATE'!!!! The closest toilet was a coach station but it was one where you have to put 20 pence into a slot and we had no change. The old black guy with the kind face pointed at a change machine with a line of people queued up behind it at first but then looked at my hubby, who now had two children alongside him looking 'uncomfortable', and he opened a disabled toilet with his big set of jangly keys. I made a mental note to myself and put him on my 'black men that could be my surrogate dad' list. So, after the rush, rush of the toilet fiasco, I suddenly found myself with a moment whilst I waited for my family to emerge from the disabled toilet and I remembered a poster that I had on my wall years back. It was a poster made up of lots and lots of individual photographs and polaroids of chairs pinned to a wall and compiled into a collage, a collection. These chairs would've been perfect to add to that collection. I loved that poster!
