The second post in my dinosaur mini series, following on from ‘There’s a dinosaur at my desk’. Because oh wait, yes, that dinosaur is me.

I have two sides to my personality. No, not in a Jekyll and Hyde kind of way, but in feeling like an ancient, decrepit dinosaur whilst managing to simultaneously behave like a giddy toddler.

It is no secret that I generally feel about a gazillion years old and have the deteriorating body of a fossilising gnat. Despite people often telling me that I am still in my prime, I feel about 80 most days with my creaky bones and knackered joints. That said, I have always been young in heart and mind despite not necessarily acting it at times or always showing it to people. It takes a certain level of comfort and familiarity with people to let them see anything other than my serious dinosaur side.

Generally, I seem to fluctuate wildly with taking things way too seriously (being an endless worrier) and then being told I am not taking some things serious enough. I would say I spend about 80% of my time ‘trying’ to be a sensible and in control Megalosaurus type dinosaur – confident, powerful, on a mission, top of the food chain. This sensible, old dino side of me is particularly evident when indulging in my fave pastimes of curling up under a blanket with my crochet or a good book in a more practiced fashion than my 97-year-old grandma has ever achieved, and successfully achieving a fossilised sofa status.

But whilst I may look this way on the surface, my head is most likely elsewhere somewhere more fun and mischievous where my inner Bambiraptor comes out (spot the Disney link there). Like dreams of the zoo, bunnies, sloths or of what mischief I can unleash. Mostly on Graham, the poor soul.

My playful pratting-about is clearly totally appreciated by my very sensible and serious T-rex (total carnivore) type other half. His cries of “You’re such a child!” can often be heard echoing down the estate, through the zoo or whatever public place in which I am embarrassing him by acting like a giddy 5 year old hyped up on Coke and Smarties (I was banned from these as a child), whilst singing Disney tunes and looking like I am doing something from the ministry of silly walks/skips. Or, let’s face it, often falling flat on my face.

However, my similarities to a dinosaur do not end with feeling like a fossil:

  • After taking up archery 3 years ago and getting fitted for a bow we discovered just how short my ‘T-rex arms’ really are. I had always known I had a long body and short arms but not quite realised the full extent to which I have not evolved. On the other hand, Graham’s arms are freakishly monkey long. We are compatible on so many levels.
  • I do a mean set of dinosaur impressions which have been in my repertoire for a good few years, specialising in steggy, rex, dippy and pterry. If you behave I may do them for you one day.
  • I have quite the set of dinosaur fangs. I always thought they were vampirish but now I come to think of it, dino teeth makes much more sense.
  • And yes, I can be pretty growly, especially if I have no meat to eat.

​As a child I had a fascination with birds and dinosaurs, often spending hours drawing them from books. And my nephew is looking like he is following in my footsteps here. So maybe my appreciation of them stems from these hours spent drawing. Maybe my creative career is thanks to the hours spent head in a DK dinosaur reference book copying the pictures. Would I be a designer had I not always related to these toothy creatures in some way?

And for the finish, one of my favourite jokes ever (because its the only one I ever remember) is also a dino based one. Are you ready?

What do you call a dinosaur with no eyes?


Okay, I’ve peaked. I’m off before I make it worse.