I met F because she and her husband M were the kind of people who would invite a stranger wrestling a poo-smeared infant over a bin to use their changing mat.That incident happened in the park that separated our flats and, as we chatted, we realised our sons were similar ages.We all ended up in that park often: to start with, we'd meet by accident, but it soon became deliberate and we hung out more regularly, spending anarchic evenings wrangling our four small boys over wine, snacks and neighbourhood gossip.
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