Party on, dude

Ian realises his onions and spuds should be stored separately.

I have just about recovered from one of my lad’s infamous parties this week. He’s turning 16 so it was a full blown teenage affair with all of the associated angst and high jinks. I did the usual caring thing and headed off to the cinema for the evening leaving Julie to deal with the spills and thrills. It’s not through choice – I’m told to go. I would spend the evening shouting and pointing at the partygoers and apparently be ‘a real downer’. So armed with a big bag of toffees and a two litre bottle of water I set myself up for a double bill.

My fears materialised of course, when I got back I was greeted with the usual signs of a party: sticky everything, broken lampshades, cans in the neighbours garden and dustbin liner bags full of party plastic and pizza boxes. It looked like fun was had indoors in my absence, but what about the garden? I couldn’t really see until the following morning but it wasn’t looking promising as I did notice that a few of the sunflowers had been pulled out of the front garden and hurled down the road. They do fly well though, especially if you leave some soil on the roots. I was in my mid-20s when I found that out. Young ones today find out these things much earlier.

 

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