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Who's the diddy daddy?!

The love of my life was right under my nose...!


Published by: Jessica Gibb and Karen Lester
Published on: 9 February 2012

They say that love comes in all shapes and sizes. Well, that's certainly true of me and my boyfriend Graham. In fact, we take that to a whole new level! I'm only 5ft 4in, but next to Graham's 3ft 11in, I look like a giant!
The night we met, I was working my first shift as a barmaid at The Blue Bell pub in York. I was pulling a pint when, suddenly, I felt a pair of hands on my bottom.
‘What are you doing?!' I gasped, as I span around and couldn't see anyone. Then I looked down and there was Graham, a cheeky grin on his face.
‘I'm drying your bottom,' he grinned. I was ready to slap him, but he had such a twinkle in his eye - and, I have to admit, was so good-looking, too - that I laughed instead. ‘You're a bit short to pick a fight!' I joked.
‘Aha, but I'm tall enough to reach your boobs,' he winked. Graham was well known in the area. He was a dwarf, but such a character - what he lacked in height, he certainly made up for in charm and wit!
He climbed up on to a barstool and chatted to me as I worked. I learned all sorts of things about him, like that he was 41 - 19 years my senior.
‘You've got an actor chatting you up,' he flirted. ‘I've been on quite a few TV programmes!'
As he chatted, I could feel myself falling for him. After a couple of months, Graham finally picked up the courage to ask me out on a date.
Before I knew it, we were heading out to the village of Helmsley for a country walk and pub lunch. As I got ready to go out, I had made sure I wore flat shoes. Graham looked me up and down and smiled. ‘I don't mind if you wear heels, love,' he said. ‘You're two feet taller than me, anyway!'
‘I suppose you're right!' I loved his attitude! He made me feel 10 feet tall.
On our way out of the pub, Graham took my hand and sat me down on a nearby bench.
‘I can see your face now,' he smiled.
‘I've had a great day,' I whispered.
‘Let's have a kiss, then. We're sitting down, so you won't have to bend,' he joked.
Our lips locked... and my body tingled with goosebumps.
From then on, we were inseparable. ‘I'll see you shortly,' I'd say, as I left his flat for work.
‘Oi, don't call me shortly!' he joked back. But, despite me being the happiest I'd ever been, I left it a few weeks before I told my mum Catherine, 46. ‘What's he like? Tall, dark and handsome?'
‘Not exactly...' I started. ‘He's Graham Hughes, from the pub.'
‘I know him well. He's such a laugh - you two will be great together,' she smiled.
‘He makes me really happy.'
‘Then that's all that matters,' Mum said.
Not everyone was so tolerant, though. When we went out shopping, people always stared.
‘Take no notice,' Graham shrugged. ‘I've had it all my life.'
Yes, we might have looked odd together. But we were the perfect fit in every aspect.
Every night, he'd stand on the wooden stool he'd had since he was a child and cook for me - his speciality was spag bol. Then we'd sit and chat as we sipped red wine, before heading to the bedroom.
And yep, we may have had to sort out the best, ahem, ways, but when we did... Wow!
Then when we'd been together seven months, I started complaining of terrible tummy cramps. ‘I think you should see a doctor,' Graham worried.
He drove me to the doctor's in his specially-adapted car and waited outside. ‘I'll be here,' he smiled, squeezing my hand.
So when he saw me staggering out a while later, my face drained of colour, he ran to meet me. ‘What's wrong?' he gasped. ‘Is it serious?'
‘I'm pregnant.' ‘What...? How...?' he stuttered. ‘You're on the pill! You've been having periods!'
I slumped in the car, nodding. ‘Yes, but remember that urine infection I had?'
Graham nodded. ‘Well, apparently the antibiotics stopped the pill working,' I explained. ‘And sometimes women do still have periods when pregnant. I'm... I'm about five months pregnant. I'm really sorry.'
‘What are you sorry about?' he gasped, a slow smile spreading over his face. ‘This is great!'
‘It is?' I cried. ‘But we've only been together seven months.'
‘That doesn't matter, I love you,' he laughed, wiping my tears.
‘I love you, too.' Once I'd got over the shock, we broke the news to friends and family.
‘That's wonderful,' they said.
Graham was so proud and protective. I hadn't put on any weight, and it was only now I knew that I seemed to swell overnight! We moved in together and, as we decided to keep the sex a surprise, we painted the nursery brown, and bought cream clothes.
Doctors told us there was little chance of our baby being born with dwarfism because neither of Graham's parents are dwarves, so it's a recessive gene. So we didn't get tested. ‘We'll love this baby whatever,' I smiled.
But Graham being a father would come with its own problems. Like when we tried to buy a pram...
‘I can't see over the top!' he said as we road-tested one.
‘Then we'll keep looking,' I smiled. ‘I don't want to be left always pushing the pram!'
We must have looked around every shop in York before we finally found the right one. All we needed now was our baby. When I finally gave birth, Graham was by my side, muttering words of encouragement the whole time.
‘You're amazing,' he told me. ‘We have a beautiful little girl.'
‘Does she...?'
‘She's not a dwarf. She's perfect.'
We named her Olivia, and I was amazed at how much
of a hands-on dad Graham was. Changing nappies, getting up in the night to feed her.
When Olivia was 10 months old, I fell pregnant again.
In October, I gave birth to Edward, who doesn't have dwarfism either. Olivia's almost two now, and already reaches her daddy's shoulder.
I have the perfect family, and it's all thanks to Graham. He's proof that the best things really do come in small packages!
Laura Toomer, 25, York