Love across the barricades.

My dad first met my mum in the late-sixties in Derry when the Troubles were re-starting. He was in the British Army, but working for Special Branch. During his intelligence briefings he'd watch films from secret cameras that recorded the movements of IRA suspects. One of these cameras was hidden in a brick wall at the end of my mum's street and he'd see my mum go past everyday, on her way to the bookmakers where she worked. He also recognised her from Civil Rights demonstrations in the city. She was a local beauty and had been Miss Derry. So he decided to arrange for a foot patrol to stop her and ask her name and address--which was possible then, due to the powers of internment. The next day he went round her house to ask her out.

They didn't

They met when they were kids. Some time around age 5 (I think) my dad's family moved from near Belmont and Western to the house down the street from where my mom lived.

My mother was a nursing my father's dad for the last few months of his life and apparently gramps managed to arrange the thing practically from his deathbed.

a-mat wrote:They didn't

Sounds preferable to me. Mine met while working in a bank, the dense boring fucks.

My mum and dad were playing romantic leads opposite each other in a play. Life imitated art and they fell in love. Only problem was that my mum was married (and my dad very freshly divorced). I was conceived in a changing room; I think it's safe to say that I was the catalyst for my mum's seperation from her first husband i.e. hello darling, I'm pregnant by the man I'm having an affair with. Well, all's well now - they've been happily married 25 years. But yes, I am the bastard product of an extra-marital affair.

apparently, my parents met on a blind date set up by mutual friends - i've always found that notion quite romantic

simmo wrote:My mum and dad were playing romantic leads opposite each other in a play. Life imitated art and they fell in love. Only problem was that my mum was married (and my dad very freshly divorced). I was conceived in a changing room; I think it's safe to say that I was the catalyst for my mum's seperation from her first husband i.e. hello darling, I'm pregnant by the man I'm having an affair with. Well, all's well now - they've been happily married 25 years. But yes, I am the bastard product of an extra-marital affair.

I've never thought about that before, but how do they know that you're not the son of your mum's ex-husband??

Err, 'cos they hadn't bonked in three months prior or something like that, I imagine

plus I look exactly like my dad?

god knows, maybe I'm the milkman's

Mama was a sweet, country girl and was wooed by my pops at a dance when he was in the Air Force and stationed a few miles away from where she lived.