“Hey, boys, what’s it like having a room to yourselves?”
“Tom’s soooooo irritating…”
“No I’m not!”
“You are. You talk through everything you’re doing. As you do it! You even woke me up this morning to tell me you were going to the toilet.”
“That’s cos I didn’t want you to wake up and find me gone. You might have thought I’d been attacked or something.”
“Attacked? By what?”
“A rabid bear.”
LB is back! He marched in with his PGL certificate, a bin bag of filthy clothes, shouted “HELLO MUM” and disappeared to find the laptop to go on youtube. Any details of his five day trip will have to be teased out with Chunky Stan’s help a bit later. Just before he got back, I was reading through his school news book. Hilarious really. So similar to my diary entries in my teens with exactly the same focus. 
This entry made me chuckle. Undated it details food (banana cake), TV (Passport Control, Traffic Cops, Britain’s Got Talent, Somewhere over the Rainbow) and daily mechanics (bath, bed, sleep). He trumped my early efforts with a finishing sentence “..and I went to sleep and that’s it basically.”
mydaftlife 