Saturday, 30th June 2007
After last night’s dinner, we returned home to find my parents in the Sitting Room, watching TV.
“How have the children been?
It transpired that they had been fine, with the slight coda that Youngest Son had got into Eldest Son’s bed and (at 10pm) was discovered engaged in the activity which we refer to (for no good reason) as “ratting”.
Father tried to discourage the two boys from further ragging about, pointing out that it was very late.
Eldest Son (who is four, and perhaps a little too composed for his own good) replied not by saying that he was sorry and would go straight to sleep put up an ingenious and baffling defence.
“But we’re OWLS Grandpa. We’re nocturnal. We rat at night.”
