Leaving home

I’ve been a right old weepy wreck since the A-level results and confirmation that Rosie’s off to university this weekend.  I dunno.  What a schmaltz-hound.  Richy and the other kids have been very patient and supportive as I’ve blubbed walking around the supermarket, passing old favourites like bourbon biscuits, hot chocolate and tuna, seeing a box set of Desperate Housewives in HMV, walking past her old primary school at chucking out time.

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