Ruby Grimshaw relates an enjoyable tale

“Aren’t you being a bit picky?” I said to Daughter C. She was down from London for the weekend and I had very daringly asked how her love life was going. These subjects can be quite tricky. If one doesn’t ask it could show a mother’s lack of interest, which in my case isn’t true. On the other hand I can still remember blowing my poor mother out of the water when she questioned me about the lack of action on the boyfriend front. C had told me she had registered with a couple of dating websites and that she was a tad disillusioned with the whole scene. Hence my question.

“Picky?!” She raised her eyebrows at me.

And when she showed me some of the profiles she had been looking at I had to agree with her. At first I laughed out loud at some of the comments which would-be dates used to describe themselves. For instance there were so many clichés I was sorry I could not download them for my creative writing class. Nearly all were ‘glass half-full’ sort of guys and ‘searching for a soul mate for life’s fascinating journey’. And then like C, I felt rather sad; any expectations of finding someone truly compatible suddenly seemed rather ambitious. For it appears that everybody is very spiritual, and wants to share meaningful life experiences with a partner who needs to express their internal quest for meeting the next exciting challenge. How exhausting is that? Every chap wants a girl who is sensual, beautiful (internally and externally) shy, creative, adventurous, loyal and calm. If you were like the soft flowing water in a powerful mountain stream, that would make one guy very happy. Another described himself as snorting when he giggled. If he admitted to that attractive mannerism, I wonder which other little habits he was not including?

“I wondered which other little habits he was not including”

What a far cry from my blind dating days. I would reluctantly turn up to meet some stranger – I had not even seen their photograph – only knowing they had the obligatory GSOH and liked DIY or gardening. Not surprisingly I can’t remember any successes, only that wonderful feeling of freedom as I drove home, realising that there were much worse things in life than being single. I am so glad I am over all that. Meanwhile, Daughter C is valiantly carrying on kissing a lot of frogs…