Backstory – my daughter is named after Dave Grohl, her middle name being Grohl. She is 5 now, and we have moved on from the confusion of whether or not the Foo Fighters frontman is her Daddy (he’s not. I have several times been close enough for him to shake his sweat onto me, but alas last time I checked sweat isn’t fertile), and we have moved onto why we named her after a man. Anywho, I’m not here to tell that story…
We were in the car today and the news came on. “Foo Fighters headline Glastonbury tonight two years after they had to pull out because Dave Grohl broke his leg”
DG – Mummy! She said Dave Grohl!
Me – Yes, she did. He’s playing at a festival tonight.
DG – Will we be there?
Me – Not at this one.
DG – But who will sing if he has broken his leg?
Me – Well that was a long time ago. It’s better now.
DG – Phew.
Me – But when he did break his leg, he had some medicine and carried on playing the show…
DG – Wow! What happened?
Me – I think the edge of the stage was wet and he slipped off the end.
DG – He should have had a tent…
Me – eh?
DG – If there was a tent above the stage like at the festivals we go to it wouldn’t have got wet…
Me – Well it was on a runway…
DG – ……or a carpet.
Me – Well yes…
DG – Mummy, he should have looked where he was going.
If my daughter ever has a career in event organisation you can sleep safely in the knowledge that there will be no wet floor to slip upon.