We (myself and Aron’s nan) are waiting for the boys at home time, ten minutes pass, the playground’s emptying fast and there’s no sign of Matt or Aron anywhere. So we take a wander around the corner and there they are, sat opposite each other on a picnic bench, looking just like the elderly men you see in films set in New York, playing chess. Except the earnest game they’re engaged in is ‘Go Goes’!
Using the pc in the café area in work, the last item that had been googled was: constipated tortoise :)
Brad - a teenager remember - saying; “You were right, mum.” It’s a good job I was sitting down! (In the car at 8.30am this morning, after he begged me for a lift - he was supposed to start work at 6am.) I’d told him he’d never make it after being out clubbing till 3am!