I realise your precious loin-fruit have managed to get out of bed long enough to get three straight As and a place at Sheffield or Bristol or some other Jack Russell university, where they will drink, get laid, and get a 2:1 whilst getting so into debt they'll be on their knees sucking off The Man for the rest of their sad corporate lives. Proud day.
Well, yahoo sucks. For my boy Bobby, aged 6, went swimming for the first time ever today. Last night's rains had flash-flooded Shropshire. Bobby, tired from chasing swallows unsuccessfully for over half and hour, aimed straight for his normal gentle stretch of the Wesley Brook to cool-off and instead dived headlong into 8 feet of a swirling vortex of seething brown water.
Surfacing and sailing away to Evelith, he looked at me forlornly and started doggy-paddling for the first time in his entire life, before finally hauling himself onto the bank, throwing up and keeling over. I near burst with pride.