Seb 'graduated' from Nursery today; I use the term loosely because he's clearly not massively in debt, has a severely enlarged liver and an ironic love of daytime television. He seemed pleased to see myself and Nick in the audience though, sitting on tiny chairs. It was a hot day so the subsequent tea party was a little stuffy but I got talking to a nice couple who are also sending their child to the same primary school, most people have plumped for a nearer one but I dismissed it because they have insufficient breakfast and after school provision.
Many of the parents got emotional, obviously not to the point that their salty tears would damage their expensive iPhones, camcorders or any other technology they waved about, or even trouble their Ray-Bans. That's a nasty thing to say, of course it is and maybe I'm unemotional, glacial maybe? Perhaps that's why I'm keeping it all inside and one day it'll all burst forth?
Seb's been asking after Daddy recently, how much does a 'soon to be four year old' understand? My own Father dropped dead when I was five-and-a-half, I still remember him, but not much. Most of the detail of his life and hobbies has been gleaned from others. Pity really, I think if I'd known him we'd really be able to get along.
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