You're My World, You're Every Breath I take...

When I was in my teens, nothing amused me more than looking at the washing line and seeing my jeans hung up on the washing line next to my Dad's.

Whilst me and Dad were probably of a height, his leggies were shorter than mine. Every pair of trews he owned had to be taken up.

He told me that while he "was in the war", he was injured and had 3 inches cut off each leg. I would look at him with that same look my kids use on me, when I tell them tall tales.

Now a days, my trews are the shortest on the washing line and that just makes me giggle!

These are my lovely calves. They belong on my husband's legs. They are all cuddled up on the couch, because last night he was in attendance at the giant sleepover with 120 beavers, cubs, scouts and explorers, and at 2.30, was threatening them all with a solitary confinement tent in a last ditch effort to make them shut up and go to sleep.

Then he had to come home and look after me because I was crippled with a Migraine.

So now, he is celebrating father's day, with a snooze on the couch before I serve him up underdone fajita's - just so that he remembers who is supposed to do the cooking in this house.



ps - dad wasn't in "the war", he did national service, and just had really short leggies !lol