Its 6am and I have woken with the fear. I have a small animal rattling around in my head and I do not dare move as I will almost definitely be sick.
When the children were little it was easy to get away with ‘Mummy’s fine, I just ate something a bit strange and it’s given me a tummy upset’
Now I barely get a backward glance as I hurtle naked to the bathroom. ‘She’s got a hangover, out with her gay friends again’ they shrug.
Not great when I spend most of my life trying to explain to my teenagers how important it is to do things in moderation.
If only I could see the sense in that when offered a short blue drink in an East end gay club at 4am.
‘One for the road’, I shout as I down it in one and grab the boy who looks like Antony Hegarty for a quick boogie to Madonna’s ‘Give it me’
‘Got no boundaries and no limits’ sings Madge, that’ll be me then!
It all starts in a very civilised manner. ‘Wont be late’, I say as I leave the house. ‘Yeh right, I’ve heard that one before.’ says the wise old husband.
I start the evening with a small glass of wine. ‘I’m really not drinking much tonight, got a lot on tomorrow, and I am NOT going anywhere later’
Four hours later, I’m propping up the bar with a drag queen call Miss Demeanour. And very lovely she is too, had a hard life and needs a shoulder to cry on!
Working in fashion for 20 years has meant most of the men I encounter in a work situation are gay. Now that I have reached the ripe old age of 47 the young ones call me Mummy and the older ones treat me as one of their own.
I often fantasise about setting up a gay retirement home when I am old. Think how fabulously clean and stylish it would be and we could sing songs from the musicals in the evenings.
Over the years I have made more than my fair share of GBF’s (Gay Best Friends) and while they can sometimes (make that often) be unreliable and a bit flakey. They are good listeners, funny, creative and stylish, great for a mad a night out and most important of all, fabulous to go shopping with (Although in my case I do run the risk of coming back looking like a small, fat Jerry Hall)
I had hopes for my son and upset my usually liberal husband years ago, when he came home to find our two year old wearing a tutu and dancing round the living room to the Sound of Music.
He accused me of trying to make him gay. How very dare you!
Sadly it didn’t work; he is hetro through and through. I have had my Eddie from Ab Fab moments, when asking if he 'could be even just a tiny bit gay'?
‘Look Mum I am not gay, I know it would make you happy, but sorry, I’m just not, ok!’
My daughter however, is a chip off the old block, she loves Jack from Will and Grace and came home very excited the other day.
‘Mum there’s a fabulous new boy in my class, he screamed when the muddy rugby ball came near him in PE and he loves my hair’
That’s my girl.