Clean feet

Having missed a hundred photo opportunities this morning, whilst making the long and hot ascent out of the Worthy Farm basin, I am forced to give you my clean feet.

I imagined myself walking into a quite and tidy house on my return home and reviving my broken body with a refreshing bath.

It seems though, by the evident carnage, that they have had their very own 'boys only micro festival' here.

Either that or the other grown up did in fact leave the kids home alone so he could go and watch U2 (as grumpily threatened).

I didn't spot him in the crowd doing ridiculous, nostalgic, over excited Dad dancing, so he can't have been there.