It usually comes in threes

Daddy Shortlegs is also on his way home, travelling down the highway at 30 miles an hour if Sonny Longpockets is driving. We need to clear up from the kitchen fitting – we left the cat’s bowl and litter in Jack’s room while he was away; it improved the air of old man stink. Not to be confused with Ol' Man River which alludes to his propensity for missing the bowl and sometimes missing the bathroom altogether - and you wonder why we are tiling everywhere!?

We can look forward to the dishwasher not working, the washer/drier breaking, the microwave singing its last ping, and a lot of muttering as he realises that the contents of cupboards have all moved. I worry most about the ceramic hob – ‘I tried to get the lid off but it won’t work now!’

My Nan was buried on Thursday - Sonny's partner buried her dad on the Thursday before that. He was dead. Death usually comes in threes. If I were Jack I wouldn’t start any long books… or arguments!