I love my son, but he may well be unique

Mouse is releasing his pent-up stress about his Higher English tomorrow by doing ‘The Dance of the Sugar-Plum Fairy’ down the hall, complete with sung falsetto accompaniment, twinkling feet and tossing golden locks. I’ve just sent him to do another timed essay instead – what a spoilsport I am – and he danced his way back to the study…

Handsome has returned from his course tonight with pockets full of interesting things. He keeps conjuring more toys out of hidden corners – ultra violet beads that change colour in the daylight; bits of wire that you can tie in knots but instantly straighten when you put them in hot water; plastic that you can heat up and knead into different shapes;  misshapen penguins… He’s got masses of canvas shopping bags, everything on this course seemed to come in a shopping bag (I’ve already pinched two for work). I’m really jealous because they had a proper tour of the Rennie Mackintosh library in the Glasgow School of Art, somewhere I’ve always wanted to go, and never have.

And I, finally, have shoes for my baby brother’s wedding. It’s just as well, because my walking boots don’t match, although I suppose I could have worn my new climbing shoes in a pinch!

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