I’ve lost count of the people over the years who ask: ‘why is she called Binface?’ I accept that she just is now. When we pray for her, we pray for Binface. Son1 doesn’t know she has another name. I can’t wait for that moment of realisation when he works out that people just aren’t called things like Binface.
So to set the record straight. Here’s how it started:
A long long long time ago we both worked for an organisation who worked with students. One of our solaces on training conferences was each other and throughout our chats it became clear that she loved being insulted, (if it came from someone she knew loved her deeply) go figure. She also loved a good old swear. I’m not naturally a sweary or insulting person so I think she found it doubly hilarious to be insulted by me. She also loves a good nickname.
And so it came to be that one day, in the midst of her demanding I insult her, I called her Binface. Because, well, she has a face like a f**king bin. (Of course she doesn’t. It’s a beautiful face. But she liked it.) It stuck and forever more she shall be known as Binface, or Auntie Binface if you are one of our sons.
The story is only complete if you know that she calls me Peach. Because I have a face like a peachy peach (blush). Thus whenever we are together and people find out our names I, for some reason, come off as the harsh one insulting her friend. She comes across as the lovely sweet one calling me Peach. What they don’t realise is that I’m actually doing her a great service by sacrificing my loveliness and saying this continual insult 😉