A Straight Bat

I take the boys on the park again this morning, as the dogs seemed keen but it’s all bravado. Both are too knackered to go too far and I end up both throwing and fetching Doggo’s ball myself whilst MD won’t even let me have his. We keep it short.

In the afternoon, well the late afternoon, we head over to Leamington to see Son. He’ll be relishing the arrival of a food parcel, the free Sunday lunch and maybe even (though perhaps not) the arrival of one smart shoe, to go with the one he packed to take with him. Hint to students - if you're going to impress your mother by taking your smart shoes to Uni, make sure you pack both of them.

He won't be relishing the nagging he knows he’ll get from L about various matters of CBA-ness. He takes it all well and plays a straight bat to pretty much everything.

According to the pub guide, Leamington is not awash with great pubs, so we eat in Wetherspoons. Which is packed, reinforcing the fact that Leamington is not awash with great pubs. As ever, at Wetherspoons, we make the mistake of ordering drinks first before realising that everything comes with a free drink. This is not negotiable and means that, very quickly, we have a table full of glassware that needs necking to make room for the food. L fancies another half of a nice 6.6% Mud City Stout but they won’t serve her a half, the meal deal includes a pint and this is not negotiable, although they do compromise and put it in two half pint glasses.

The ‘poor’ dogs are abandoned again, this time in the car. We feel bad about that. Well, I feel a bit bad, L feels very bad. She’s been saying all week that she’ll treat them to something really nice for all this abandonment but not morsel of potato or Yorkshire pudding or anything, heads their way, again.

(Sunday 14th October)