Friday night is footy night (rugby league)—Simon, television, beer, legs up, do not disturb! No, it’s not quite that serious. I cook dinner, clean up, and relax.
Scrappy kisses me goodnight on the way to bed. Cool! Every other night she calls me in to turn her light off, and I kiss her goodnight then. It’s a close game. Go Tigers!
‘Beep.’ Bugger! Who would be txting me this late? I walk sideways to the phone, one eye on the game, and knock my knee on the dining table.
‘simon can you turn off my fan <3’
Did I mention drive-me-crazy?
Does anyone have any gunpowder?
Peace (thank you Helen)
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