Boy, he’s got a lot to learn..
LOCKDOWN means I am learning a lot about my teenage son.
Under normal circumstances he spends weekends and holidays with his father. My role is limited to chiselling him out of bed in the morning, shouting at him to observe basic personal hygiene, arguing over lunch money and attempting to get some vegetables into him at night.
Now he is in permanent residence, I can no longer kid myself about how much he sleeps and how many processed meat products he consumes.
With the schools on holiday, his waking hours are filled with PS4, Snapchat, The Office (American version) and documentaries about Oasis. Their whiny voices have become the sign that he has, reluctantly, woken up.
This often coincides with my lunch break. He emerges, splashes around in the bathroom, then prepares a horrific hybrid meal. A giant bowl of honey nut cornflakes followed by a steak bake, that kind of thing.
He agreed to a game of Scrabble Slam last night and thrashed me in two out of three rounds. The soundtrack was his favourite playlist. It’s called (.)(.) Titties.
Feminism is going on the curriculum as soon as term resumes.