ATTENTION PARENTS OF LONDON-
Here is a list of people outside your family and very close friends who care about stories about your children-
-Santa
-God
-Jimmy Saville

 

I recently made a trip to Hong Kong to visit my sister, her husband and my beautiful-angelic-possibly-most-handsome-boy-in-the-world nephew. I had not seen this likely-to-be-a-genius 2 year old boy since before Christmas and the fact that my sister has live-in help made the whole trip even more enticing. Less nappies= more happies.

Single-Gay-Actor-London life couldn’t be more different from bouji Ex-Pat-Banker-Family-Hong Kong life. 42 floor mansion style apartment blocks, on-site gym, steam room, club house, views of the sea, and CHILDREN. SO. MANY. CHILDREN. The complex my sister lives on has 4 phases, each phase has about 9 towers, each tower has one hundred and thirty two flats. In my two week stay I would estimate i met roughly (just at a wild guess) four million and seven children.


Now this blog probably reads as ‘nasty evil queen ranting about kids’ (mission accomplished), but actually I really like children. Some children. Here is a list of children I like-

-my nephews and niece
-my friend’s children
-friends of my nephews and niece
-children I am paid to teach (and even that’s at a stretch, providing they don’t soil themselves)

 

I don’t need to be told ‘Tabitha is a genius’, or ‘Marcus likes to press the button in the lift’ or ‘Persephone can count to 8 million in Swahili’! I also don’t want to have to have a verbal fight with an 8 year old about where I let my nephew play. So what if he found a needle in the sand?! Sassy little six year old, what the hell does she know about life?! She’s in for a rude awakening at……errrrrr …. App Developing Camp (I imagine that’s what kids today are doing).

 
What’s more frustrating about children is that they get ALL the attention. ALL. OF. IT. I have to smash it in a Westend musical (backdoor brag) and spend 26 hours a day in the gym these days to get any sort of attention (gone are my early twenties when I could rely on my body, my face and basically being easy). All my nephew has to do is copy one of my catch phrases. Copy it. Lazy.

When people with kids ask me ‘when did you decide to be gay?’ I want to bluntly ask ‘when did you decide to throw in the towel on your own life, your personal hygiene and you own fear of EVERYONE you know rolling their eyes when you start a story about your kids?’ But I don’t, I hold my tongue, smile through gritted teeth and think about the cute outfit I’m going to buy with the money they have to spend on their leeches children.

I have some very new, very fun new gay friends (they paid me to write that). A couple. And a few weeks ago they welcomed me into their little gay urban family. A group of 3 lesbian (I know, gross) couples and a few of their gay friends. 6 lesbians and not a pair of crocs in sight. What struck me about this fantastic group was what a close knit gang they actually were. And that was even more fascinating is that two of the lesbians were having children and my new friends were going to be the fathers. Now I did learn the exact dynamics (who jizzed in the cup) of these children’s DNA but I am also basically a functioning alcoholic (ask anyone) so have since forgotten. Side note to self- ask the boys about the jizzing dynamics.


Are these guys the future of gay men? The Gays who have it all, the great job, the social life, and power lesbians carrying their little Celines and Eltons? The new normal. The very existence of this new version of a family makes my heart happy. If my face still registered human emotions it might even muster up a tear. We are so lucky to live in a country blah blah blah you know the rest, but it is true.


I won’t see my nephew now for a little while but that won’t stop me making trips to the park to push over sassy 6 year olds. #peopleschampion

Check ya later beautiful people.

And Happy Pride

THG

 

x

 

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