Yours, Siobhan

We took a trip to Bath at the weekend as The Dark Lord is studying the Romans at school.

The world-famous ancient Roman Bath is, “Quite interesting but smells of wee,” according to my Philistine daughter, and then we had dinner back at the hotel.

I’d banned iphones during the meal to encourage us to have a proper conversation.

So, of course, we both sat in silence wishing we had our mobiles.

I handed my fussy daughter the menu. “Here you are, why don’t you choose what you don’t want as usual, rather than what you do,” I smiled at her sarcastically.

It drives me mad when she goes through menus and ticking them off, “Yuck, yuck and that’s r-e-a-l-l-y yuck,” then just orders bread, chips and steak. Every. Single. Time.

“I’ve got an idea,” she piped up, “I’m going to pretend to be your date tonight.”

“That’s just weird,” I quickly looked around to making sure nobody was listening.

Getting in character, she put on a deeper voice and started boasting about how rich she was. “So, yah, I’m a lawyer and I’ve got a big car. What about you?”

“Well that’s wrong for a start,” I shook my head. “A real bloke on a date would never ask about me that quickly. He’d have to run out of oxygen first.”

“Oh OK, well what do you want to talk about then?” she asked, not entirely sure she liked what she’d created.

“Uh uh, that wouldn’t happen either,” I tutted. “But seeing as you’ve asked, what did you think of the curse tablets they dug up at the baths? The ones Romans had left as offerings to the Gods.”

“Oh yeah, they were funny,” she laughed. “All those bathers cursing people for nicking their clothing or sandals. If the Romans were clever enough to invent swimming pools – they should have invented lockers too.”

Email me at siobhan.mcnally@mirror.co.uk or write to Community Corner, PO Box 791, Winchester SO23 3RP.