…but, woooooo, none of them are mine!”

Well.
Some of them are mine.
Because I’m a big target. And somedays these days I find myself slow getting out of the way.
Some days.

Among them, the youngest is getting over pneumonia.

So that’s something new to moan about.

And stuff.

And I’m still not back on the bike. And I want a job closer to home. Maybe at the café across the road. But you just know I’d get mowed down crossing the pedestrian crossing.

But.

Besides, I only have a handful of days to get through until we leave for our fortnight-long family holiday in a place where it better fucking not be cold and raining.

The black has mother fucking slown me down, but I’m still finding bursts deep below the frown.

This was inspired by The Simpsons.