This mum picked up at the park, but not the kind of person you’d expect.
So, I picked up at the park yesterday. No big deal.
There she was, dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt, cradling a takeaway coffee with a level of intimacy I thought only I was capable of. She sat in a sunshine splashed part of the playground, her eyes following the movements of a small blonde boy.
I watched her for a little while from behind my dark sunglasses, wishing I’d made more of an effort with my appearance before I left the house. I had little doubt that my eye make-up from the birthday party I’d attended the previous night had migrated to my nose. All class. Alas, toddlers and beauty routines rarely go hand in hand, especially on the morning after the night before. I was impressed we’d actually made it outside.
As often happens when toddlers meet, it wasn’t long before our small men became engaged in a battle over matchbox vehicles. We both leapt up to intervene, unleashing similar negotiation tactics to neutralise the developing situation. “ You need to share your cars,” we said in unison. She was my kind of lady.
Once the boys were happily playing together, I made my move, unleashing the foolproof, “So, do you come here often?” We discovered that we’d worked in similar industries, talked in-depth about the challenges of returning to work post-baby and spent an hour discussing everything from Peppa Pig to child-friendly resorts in Fiji. Meanwhile, the boys played together harmoniously - my son even asking if he could invite his new friend over to see his room.
Later, as we sorted toys and packed up to head home, I summoned some courage and asked her for her number. She entered it into my phone, added her name and told me to ping her straight back. I waited a few days before texting (not wanting to appear too eager) and we arranged a play date for the following week.