The Giddy Goatgate
Since I started this blog I have suffered several personal threats. Most of them have come from Didsbury Wife regarding the difference between honesty in writing and telling the world our personal issues (am I the only man in the world who believes Lorraine Kelly should be Prime Minister?).
I have unwittingly made a few non friends. I think Gourmet Burger Kitchen might get fed up of me pointing out that most of their furniture is pristine from lack of use and Carringtons once got very shirty. But beyond this I have been lucky enough to only have had three twitter rages come after me.
I once had someone suggest that my research on Didsbury in the 70s / 80s was not always up to scratch. Research? What I can’t remember is all made up. I haven’t got time to research, sterilising bottles and praying for sleep fill most of my day. I had a Scunthorpe United fan living in Sale with an anti-Didsbury thing going on sniping from the sidelines (they’ve been relegated, Schadenfreude my favourite German dish after Steffi Graff and Bratwurst) but now comes an animalistic outburst; threats, from a goat. Not just any goat but The Giddy Goat itself.
One of Didsbury’s anomalies is that its pavements rumble to the sound of the Bugaboo and City Jogger army, but its centre is full of shops that have a step too high for a pram and a door that will not take a double buggy. Caffe Nero is mummy central because its gentle slope doorway accommodates buggies effortlessly and there are two changing tables. This is why they can charge a month’s rent for breakfast – you can get your people vehicles in without waking the contents, priceless. This can’t be said for swathes of the traders, including our favourite toy shop… The Giddy Goat.
This Didsbury Deli (easy access, wide door, needs changing facilities) of toy shops is an affordable and affable joy – the inverse of a soulless schlep around Toys R Us… But only if you can get in.
I have been warned not to diss the shop. Warned that there may be a playdoh goats head in my bed.Told Mr Potato Head would sort me out, that the Lego Star Wars fighter jets would find me, that the staff would help bring the twins in; but that ruined the story.
Your Goatness. I have read Billy Goats Gruff, taken Didsbury Son to stroke goats in fields across the country and eaten delicious goat curry after many a night out so your message hit home.
The Mighty-Headed twin boy with the full body laugh and the awkwardly Aryan hair is already taking his first tentative steps across the living room floor. He whoops with joy at steps that still have the stiffness last seen by Kenneth Moore as Douglas Bader in rehab in “Reach for the Skies” but soon he will walk. Then his pearl-headed smiley twin sister, all toothless grin and happy concentration will walk. Steps will become racing around the house. This will lead us outside and eventually, after months of effort we will walk heads held high up the step in to Giddy Goat Toys. I will crouch down to speak to them at eye level and tell them “you have achieved greatness, choose anything you want”. I will smile proudly then realise my mistake and shout after them “up to £5, its not a big present”.
The twins – Giddy Goat style. Pearl-headed girl in pink, Mighty big bonce in blue. Available from our favourite Goat