My son will hate me, and not just because I am now dragging him West and into the land of co-ed and pony club.
This morning I’ve made a half-hearted start on sorting through the stuff from the loft. And I’ve discovered two more crates of soft toys. Sadly, these are all mine (acquired as an adult, or whilst I was a student, which probably isn’t quite the same thing).
Most of them still have labels on and some bear the sad tags of being left-overs from gifts consumed long ago (Champagne, chocolate and the odd plant – although, obviously,that would only be a metaphorical consumption).
Some of the better ones are destined for the charity shop. The others, sadly, are about to be consigned to burial by landfill, which makes me feel doubly bad. OMG I’m killing teddies and destroying the planet. Don’t tell Jensen.
My office is full of cardboard and pathos.
On the plus side, I have found Rupert, who is very threadbare, but still wearing his scarf and smoking jacket. I can feel another road trip coming on……