Like the paint, I cracked...

The article I am most proud of on this site was written about my dad. Writing it allowed me to express something that I hope one day, before it is too late, I will be able to say (to him!) out loud (or let him read, as we would probably both die of embarrassment).

As I mentioned in the article, he was coming to visit us. Well, now he's here. We've been through the ice-breaking Manchester City performance conversation (surprisingly good) and the weather (surprisingly bad - did I say he'd had a run of bad luck?).

However, there was something hanging in the air between us...we both knew what it was (reading the original article will give you a clue if you can't wait for another line or so), but neither of us could bring ourselves to mention it.

After 2 days we cracked: I dropped in references to the difficulty of painting the fascia around the outside of the house before winter set in, and he pointed out that the walls were a bit dirty above the radiators and where the paintings of the previous owner had hung.

I swore (in writing to a whole community of readers - I know of at least 3 now!) that I would never, ever, under any circumstances ask him to do any decorating for me - after 45 years he deserved a break.

But he offered, honestly, I swear, I never asked. OK, I dropped subtle hints: I bought a pot of paint and some brushes, looked at the price of ladders (damned expensive) and left the catalogues lying around, but surely he would never pick up on this? You don't believe me? You know me too well already...

I'm selfish, lazy, exploitative and currently feeling extremely guilty, but, on the bright side, I have a very nicely painted interior.

Now, I just need to get that fascia painted before winter sets in...