Right Place, Right Time

I've made no secret of the fact that our youngest, Cy, says and does things at the wrong time. Deliciously passionate about everything, especially "baksetball" he runs through life with an enormous grin on his face - unless he's howling with rage. But he can get himself in hot water. And yet sometimes, just sometimes, it all comes together....

Cy, seven, with the Warriors cheerleaders

Last night Cy lined up to get a supersonic-sized soda (as you do when you're age seven) at the Warriors game. For anyone who doesn't follow basketball, the Golden State Warriors are an NBA team in Oakland and they are "super-famous and super-awesome."  He turned a second later and there were the Warriors "girls"!

Other times Cy can get in a muddle. At age four at pre-school, he raised his hand to go to the bathroom and was subsequently picked to be the "husband" at a mock Mexican wedding ceremony. For years later he was asked: "How's married life Cy?" and "How's your wife, Cy?"  "But" he would plead: "I didn't want to get married. I was just raising my hand to go to the bathroom."

I spent much of my early life failing to be where I was supposed to be (and yet having a bloody good laugh anyway.) Except one night, 16 years ago, I got the right directions to a party in Chelsea, London. That was the night I met my husband. If we hadn't met that night, our paths would have never crossed. That was the night I got it right.

Can you think of a day or night you were magically in the right place at the right time?

(We've just done the random draw for the cashmere-blend scarf Giveaway. The lucky winner is Trish of the hilarious British blog Mum's Gone To... Trish, email your address to me at jbrettkelly@gmail.com and we'll send it right away.)