Good Morning! It’s Friday and about time to says me! It has been a bloody long week.. I think we should talk about last weekend not last night! Well last weekend was my father’s ‘Mr plain food’s’ birthday so we, as a family decided to go out to eat in a restaurant. An Italian restaurant was my father’s choice of cuisine. Why? you ask? Well he is from Italy, Naples to be precise. So that makes me half Italian (My name is Gabriella so people didn’t think I could speak English growing up). My mother is English-born and bred, as she loves to put it “born in the sound of the Bow bells’. My dad came over here as a child so doesn’t really get to speak much Italian around us (no he didn’t teach us and yes it is a shame) So when he gets the chance he gets all excitable and over zealous. He goes all out, I think he thinks he is ‘The god father’ but honestly it is lovely to see him in his element and it still intrigues me that English is not his first language. I love his tales of when he was just a boy he would hardly speak a word of my mother tongue and would struggle to get his intentions across. He doesn’t struggle now with his loud cockney Islington accent. I guess you would have to call somewhere home if you have lived here for 69 frigging years and only lived in Italy for 10. kinda makes sense. I often wonder if he didn’t come over what would have happened to my soul? Would I have been destined to be a boy, monkey, giraffe or butterfly? Even worse from somewhere really cold because I hate the cold. Honestly this soul was destined for hotter climates like Hawaii or Seychelles. I can see myself as an Hawaiian hula girl, I definitely have the coconuts for it already. I would grow my hair and give out flower necklaces, yep that would have suited me well, I would even get to met Tom Selleck aka Mr Magnum PI and we could live in his beach house. Dreams!! Maybe next life! Don’t tell @wildseeley the artist because I have already told him when we die, we will be holding hands on a beach entwined in each others bodies whilst drinking champagne and possibly in a sexual position? Well that sounds very romantic? Then his soul would pick my soul up in his two hands and we will enter the holy heavens of paradise and be together for ever..yada yada. Well you gotta keep the romance up especially at our age when half of our time is up on this very mortal coil. So Wildseeley or Magnum PI, whatevs…
My dad knows the Signor who owns the restaurant and arranges all of the family (22) that includes my niece’s new squeeze, minus the teenage daughter as she ‘vants to be alone’ in Greta Garbo’s best accent, an aunt and my cousin with her fiancée. So we find our table, which isn’t actually too hard as there is only another three 2 people tables left in this tiny little place. We sit down on our supersize table and realise that we are in a kind of shop front window for all to see. We sit for bloody ages as can you imagine, trying to get that many people in one place at a certain time whilst people walk past but not before having a good nosey in. It ain’t easy especially because my siblings live in different parts of the country. I can see the owner licking his lips and rubbing his hands together as we all take a seat. He then goes over to my dad and starts to speak in Italian. I thought that was nice, give an old man his dream of feeling like he is back in his mother land at the grand old age of 79, until I realised what they were bloody talking about. I looked in wonderment when we all starting getting little plates and thought dad had ordered for us. I don’t know about you but when I go out to eat I only get a main, this is because I don’t like two meals as I get full easily. Always been the same, possibly a cheap date you may think but then I can be known to make up for it with the booze. So when my dad said he had ordered some starters I wasn’t best pleased. When he said some starters I don’t know who he was kidding! He ordered enough for a feast for 3 frigging days. Calamari piled up high, a huge range of salamis and Mortadella, 3 different types olives and mozzarella, 4 pizza size garlic breads you name it, it kept coming out. The rest of the table by this time were getting merry and found it quite easy to woof down. I think they thought it was complimentary. Complimentary my arse later on when we were dividing the bill those ‘Complimentary starters’ cost £120. I nearly fell off my seat! Anyway, my dad’s day! He loves speaking Italian and all, personally I am wondering if he needs to flipping brush up on his mother tongue? What was he thinking? Although I have to say I did dig in, when in Rome and all that. I had a tiny weeny bit of the olives, the salamis and calamari as rude not too. I was feeling rather full when they asked what we wanted for mains so I got the chicken salad. Wild Seeley asked for the same and my boys had pasta and pizza. I have to say the food wasn’t terrible at the restaurant and the family all set to their meal in a tipsy, ravenous fashion. Most ate and finished and burped their way through their mains. I was glad it came out that end as we were in a confined space.. So after they put on a happy birthday song and we had some birthday cake, the dinner was nearly at an end. All was left was the bill. The dreaded bill. We all are scared of it. It’s like a monster and you don’t realise how large it is until you see it face to face then it roars at you and makes you go white and your knees Start to shake. Through gritted teeth and sweaty palms I took the bill and start to decipher it. As such a large family we agree to divide it fairly. What we all had plus the 10 per cent service charge. We all look like a bunch of deflated kids whom was promised Disney then ended up in Clacton when we leave the restaurant. Mutters can be heard of ‘how bloody much’ and ‘thought they were complimentary’ around the table as we all get up to leave. I think the only happy people were my dad who was oblivious and just happy to speak his own language to someone, anyone who could listen and understand and the restaurant owner who look like he had won the lottery. The greedy rotund, jollier then when we came in owner and my dad shook hands as we all gave him dirty looks then off we went into the sunset promising never to go there again and bloody birthdays…
It was my eldest sisters idea (I have 2) to go to Jamie Oliver’s for a night-cap. The older generation said it was their bed time and slippers and dressing gowns awaited them but we were all up for it. My teenagers wanted to go home and that was a good idea as they could go get food for my daughter so Wild Seeley and I decided ‘hell! why not, lets catch up with the ménage’. We all sat outside Jamie Oliver’s, louder and brasher then probably desired. We all enjoyed a wine or Aperol whilst sitting in the warm air soaking up the last sun rays of that day. It went on into the night when we decided enough was enough. A few photo opportunities later and some kissing and cuddling and promising not to leave it as long next time we headed home, just the husband, River and I. Or so we thought. My middle sister ‘the party animal’ had to get to the train which was Liverpool St and that was in our direction. After speaking loudly on the bus and being extremely merry but possibly less entertaining than we thought, I decided to ask the ‘party animal’ sister if she would like to pop up for a night-cap. Well it was the night and does it matter if we already had ‘a cap of the night’? Anyway we thought one more than we would part waves. Party animal, her hubs and my niece all popped up, be it very loudly to my flat. The daughter wasn’t completely amused to see us all but was polite enough about the old tipsy farts. For the first time in ages she didn’t moan about our rather fine state. She was pleased to see her cousin I think and by now wanted our company even if it was a little uncompos mentis than usual. Laughter and fun was had by all then it was time for them to catch their train but not before my bro in law eyed up one of the husbands prints. I said choose one well, he is family and I was feeling extremely generous! He chose the policeman with the banana. Excellent choice I thought. As we parted waves and they went away into the deep dark night we both agreed what a great day and night had by all and by this time the restaurant and the bill was a distant memory and we were just savouring the fun we had with the family. Just before bed time my phone pinged. ‘Who is that at this time of bloody night? your fancy man?” Wild Seeley muttered Half asleep. I checked my phone and the bro in law had sent a pic of wild Seeleys print in a number of unusual places from a phone box to it having it’s own seat on the train. Had he lost it in his drunken merriment? The next morning my sis confirmed to me the print was safely home perfectly intact, as was a police cone and a kebab half eaten. Well, my dad has only one birthday once a year so it was a crazy blast! Its my mum’s next month?…… lets hope she likes a macdonalds party instead definitely safer option me thinks….
Well I could not talk about it then not show you our day! so here it is…
Well, here we are I am afraid, at the end of my blog. I hope you have enjoyed my ramblings this week and any feedback good or bad always welcome. I do enjoy writing it so a ‘like’ shows me I should carrying on doing what I am doing. Anytime you want to write a message and say a Hello, well that would be marvellous as well. It’s nice to know your readers. Anyway I am off. I have a wedding to get ready for. As a forty something yes, it will take me 24 hours.. Got to put me face on and squeeze myself into my dress…if it still fits? Well that’s another story altogether right there but….
Gabriella Wild Seeley