I love you, Mrs Oldham

Back in the mid 1990s I met a young woman sat in a long black skirt with socks (that stuck with me) on pretending to be an extra on Grandstand in the 1980s, her arms flying back and forth as she typed in a busy BBC newsroom. Eight years later I married her and seventeen years later I am still happy to see her sat typing and pretending to be an extra in sports newsroom. Love you, Mrs Oldham. Thanks for spending two decades with me and putting up with my muddy boots, temper and strange sense of humour. Thanks for standing by me when my spine gave out and I spent a decade recovering from it. Thank you for saving me. Thank you for taking on a house and garden that needed work and giving us a lovely little boy who is mad as a box of frogs. Thank you for being my best friend (with benefits) through thick and thin. More importantly, thank you for being you, I wouldn't change you for the world even when I bluster and nag x


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