Homecoming falls a bit flat

Having removed myself to the basement in an act of poor altruism, I was able to let Mrs Ottawacker have a good night’s sleep without subjecting her to a night of listening to my constant hacking and coughing, and was delighted in return to have a very good night’s sleep myself. We were both in good form, apart from my ongoing coughing and spluttering, of course, which is a damned sight more than can be said for Ottawacker Jr.
 
He awoke in time for school, but was complaining of eye issues and feeling sick, so went straight back to bed, where he stayed until 2pm. Quite impressive really – he was fully fit when he got up, with the exception of his arm (another ongoing issue that is football-related). Mrs Ottawacker took him in for a quick physio appointment, at which he was told that he shouldn’t play in goal for the foreseeable future. As you might imagine, this didn’t go down well.
 
Nonetheless, he made it to his evening practice with strict instructions not to take his gloves or make any attempt at playing in: my natural suspicious nature meant I had already communicated this to his coaches. He’ll work on fitness and ball skills with the other outfield players. Poor bugger.