As some of you may know a second teenage lad has moved into my house.
There is one already, apparently the passionate result of my own loins although i suspect he come from another planet, but this new one is really not my responsibility.
At least that is what i am shouting at the wind whilst he eats, or should i say forages, through my collection of cereal and chocolate biscuits.
In desperation i decided to do a day's work in the distant city - leaving at the crack of dawn and returning well into the sunset - partly to earn some euros with which i could restock the larder but secretly to give the situation a chance to develop.
I gave Krissie some fictional quest to follow that would take her near enough to the interloper's family house that something might fall into place.
Good News!
The aforementioned boy, either rebellious runaway or tragic escapee, volunteered on hearing the news to drop in on his parents who had so brutally kicked him out several days ago.
Krissie suggested that he pick some sunflowers from the meadows and arrive with a fistful and the words - i come in peace. parental inspiration i think you would agree that naturally fell on deaf teenage ears.
Bad news.
When i returned hot and decidedly dusty - temperature in my car had reached 44 centigrade - he not only is still sleeping upstairs but now has his parents accord!
And to add insult to injury he has returned with a clean t-shirt that is clearly intended to last another month AND a friend - olivier - a giant of a youth that will require several buckets to feed.
The long lost return of my laptop charging unit from the unchartered hinterland of teenage bedroom is scant reward.
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