The restaurant is only Cobb & Co, but we’re happy to be together as a family, babies, and missus ’n all. The dinky stuff on the walls, the stylised placemats, the branding, the ropes and wagon wheels and horseshoes and pioneer s**t on the walls: it gives us a warm feeling. Our meals are twenty bucks, but there’s deeper value in us coming together. We haven’t been a family for ten years. Time to catch up.
Mona’s brought the twins and Mumsie is loading tonnes of presents into Mona’s handbag—milk bottles, even though Mone is exclusively breastfeeding, teething rings, even though the twins have got no teeth, onesies size zero, one, two, three and four. Mumsie is ridiculously excited; Mona’s happy to have someone to get girly with, clucky, nesting and all that. Every other so-called girlfriend
