Restaurants

Alas, half-term is over, my son is back at school, and I have the house back to myself during the day. Oh, how I miss him, or would do if I wasn’t so thrilled to get rid of the pesky old so-and-so. Oh dear, school today, I said on the first morning while pushing him out of the door, double-locking it from the inside and drawing the bolt. I did think about quickly moving while somehow forgetting to leave a forwarding address but then realised it would mean packing and that would be too boring for words. Still, it’s not as if I can forget him entirely during the day, as there appears to be a deadly smell emanating from his room. How best to describe it? It’s sort of like cheese mixed with old socks and BO and Monster Munch (pickled onion) and Lynx, the last being the most singularly deadly of all.