Fifty years ago today (28/05/2020) I wished my future wife, Mary, Happy Birthday and gave her a box of Cadburys Milk Tray wrapped, as she is fond of reminding me, in a brown paper bag; those were in the days when a shop would automatically place goods in said bag free of charge.
Three months later we got married; It occurs to me that I never actually asked her to marry me; I had told my mother that we were going to get a flat together and she went off on one (i.e. started telling me off in a forceful manner) with words along the lines of “she is a guest in this house and there is no way she is leaving it to live with you unless she has a ring on her finger”; I replied, somewhat heatedly, “alright make the arrangements then”.
That was on a Sunday and I disappeared for the week, back to where I was gainfully employed. By the time I returned the following Friday night, my Mum and Mary had been down the registry office and booked a date.
And before anyone askes – our first child was born three years later.
Then and now: