On Sunday, I went to the theatre – well, I say the theatre, but actually it was an ex sorting office near Paddington Station to spend three hours of my life at a theatrical experience called ‘The Drowned Man’.
I will blog about this later when I can find the words.
While I was away, Jason was buying a new car, and my mother offered to look after the children, to save them having to spend three hours in a shiny garage drinking paper cups of powdered hot chocolate and getting off their heads on Lego.
Jason likes to spend lots of time buying his cars.
At one point, while we were both absent, Oscar said to my parents.
‘What if daddy and mama don’t come back?’
‘What do you think we would do?’
‘I think I would be alright staying at your house, but I must remember to take granddad and go and break into my old house.’
‘What for, Oscar?’
To which he replied:
‘So that I can get all my stuff, of course.’
‘Ahhhh, I see.’
There was a pause, and Oscar said:
‘I need granddad so he can help with the ladder, and I can’t pick up my wardrobe, so he’ll have to carry it.’