my mum and i were talking about how fab it will be when the new high-speed train to paris is up and running. i said i’d love to go there for the weekend when i turn 30.

my mum:

“will you go with your new boyfriend?”

“er… i don’t know - what’s he called?”

“i think james.”

“i think octavio.”

“yes! he’s a mature student too, from italy.”

“but not old.”

“no, 32.”

“that’s a bit old.”

“you’ll be 30.”

“oh.”