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Its a glorious day and the nice chaps are painting the back of the house today.
DD2 has just excelled at her swimming class and is moving up next week.
I've just struck a deal with a ticket agent for disney passes next year
and we are off to take DD1 and friend to cinema and while they watch stuff about vampires me wife and DD2 will be looking for a dinner jacket and trousers
By the time I had worked my way through the pumps, the buggers had changed some of the barrels.
One of the new ones was an absolutely scrummy Pale Ale called Ghost Ship. On which I got absolutely wrecked. Which is something I haven't done in a pub for ages.
When I was little and my Dad was in his late 40s, he would embarrass us no end with his loud, long and vaguely musical farts.
I would wish him dead, wish myself dead and as a family, we would berate him about it. Whether it was worse in the car (enclosed space, but windows can be opened) or the house (larger volume but no escape) was a matter of debate.
It was humiliating and I was grateful I was not like him.
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