My wife and I bought a flat with a mortgage. After tackling some renovations, we moved our things in, and a month later, finally settled there for good. Wanting to get acquainted with the neighbourhood, we invited the elderly couple from the flat opposite over for tea.
For some reason, they drank their tea rather hastily. Once the conversation revealed that the lady was my wifenot my daughterthey quickly found an excuse to leave. It was a Friday evening, so we thought perhaps they had plans.
The next morning, there was a knock on the door. A police officer stood outside, asking to see our identificationmine and my wifes.
To our surprise, he also requested our marriage certificate. We spent the next ten minutes rummaging through boxes and drawers, as everything was still in a bit of a mess from the move. Eventually, we found the document.
The constable glanced at my wife, commented awkwardly that she looked rather youthful, and apologised for disturbing us so early. As he left, he mentioned that there had been a report suggesting a man was living with a minor in this flat.
Suddenly, it made sense why our neighbours made a swift exit when we told them we were married. Im twenty-four and my wife is twenty-six, but she often gets mistaken for a sixth-former, especially when she has her hair in braids or isnt wearing makeup.
If she doesnt have her drivers licence or passport on her, she cant buy wine at the shop. On Friday, she had her hair in two plaits, and later wiped off her makeup, so she looked even younger than usual. Its rather amusing, but also a bit unnerving. I decided to shave off my beard so I wouldnt appear like some forty-year-old dad living with his daughter.
