Spud Bud has left me for another woman: his friend’s mother, who makes edible mashed potatoes that he can stomach, though he can’t stomach mine; and who has gone off to exotic places for a week: Trearddur Bay in Angelsey. This is the third time they have taken him away and I am very grateful, though they will insist on bringing him back.
I had hoped to have a break from his complaints – he’s fourteen: complain and sleep is all they do – but he had been gone only six hours before the first call came, complaining that I had not provided him with bedding (okay; I never said his complaints were unjustified). I remembered the toothpaste; what more does he want?
The Laughing Housewife 
sleeping and complaining: yes that just about sums up the young male of the species.
Mind you, he must have had trouble sleeping without bedding, specially if it’s in a tent. But he’s old enough to think of these things for himself.
V 🙂
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It’s a holiday flat, fortunately, or I would never hear the end of it; and my friend had some spare bedding.
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