Today I return victorious from Nannas' house and will hopefully bring sufficient photos to brighten up my last couple of posts. It's my swimming lesson this afternoon which cannot be missed.
We got back in time to get reacquainted with the TV before going off to swimming.
The Royal Marines Charity band was oompah-ing in Guildhall Square but they'd finished by the time I was dry and had made it down there. However the giant copper doors at the top of the Guildhall steps were open so I snuck in while everyone else was trying to get on telly and had a nose around before some officious old hag threw me out. Give it 8 years and I'll be Mayor - then I'll have the key. At showertime tonight, I was just getting a piggy-back on my way to teeth-cleaning when I said put my feet in your pockets. Usually I can stand up from there, but this time his trousers were undone. So gradually I sunk backwards to the floor with my feet caught in his trousers. He sunk forwards to the floor with his trousers round his ankles and, separated by 6 ft and his shorts, we laughed and giggled. It's lucky that we both didn't get hiccups. These are the things that father-#1 son relationships are made of, and we both missed it while I was away. 
No comments:
Post a Comment
Hi! I'm glad you want to comment, for I like messages from humans. But if you're a Robot spam program, Google will put you in the spam folder for me to laugh at later.