The day of going backwards

At the crack of 10am PopsMum rang the doorbell to collect Bud for a run. Morning runs are only done by strange obsessives: LittleMax and I had our own theory about it a couple of days ago which we voiced very loudly on the pavement but he said 'Pull the other one, for it hath klaxon, she's not going to want to kiss some ginger baldy'. They returned 15 minutes later than expected and I was still playing Ludo with Jof.

We dropped Jof at her hairdressers and returned to do our normal bottlebank tour. It was much later than usual so the roads had filled up with football traffic. One extra problem was a road closure caused by a crash right outside our old PuddleNursery where we saw 2 paramedics giving CPR and oxygen to a prostrate man on the road to try and stop him dying. They'd cut off his clothes and not far away we saw his rather dead motorcycle. I do not want a motorbike.

At Tunnel Park we met Football Harry and not-so-little Ollie and recruited a small unknown child to help us attack-chase our usual suspect. The traffic had not abated when we returned (via the butchers for our breakfast). After a lunch break we hit LIDL for those little juices that Erin put me onto, and both of us found pound coins. Finally Jof got home after nearly 3 hours in the hairdressers, poor girl. I think it may be easier without hair.
To add insult to injury, Pops was busy with her Other Friends so I couldn't slyly invite her into my giant box with its mood lighting and modesty curtain. Overall, a great day full of activity and yet also of relaxation, Saturdays are good because you're not in a hurry.
Requested Youtube videos after bath fizzer night: Lou Ferrigno changing into the Hulk, more volcanic eruptions and Led Zep's Stairway live with the double-ended guitar.