Crastinator

Not just any crastinator this one. No this one's a Pro-crastinator. Been at it for years so he has, made it an art form.

Whilst we all sat out in the garden enjoying the cold sun, Euan was tidying his bedroom at breakneck glacial pace (scraping carpets, chipping off layers of dust and confining shrivelled lumps of what must've once been edible lumps to black bags). All to make space for a new gaming chair that he's been saving up his hard earned pennies pounds for months to buy. He's a much better saver of money and he's a lot less inclined to let it burn a hole in his pocket than some of us around here, and he's certainly a bit of a wheeler dealer when it comes to hard-nosed negotiating (he was £10 short of what he'd said he had but that didn't become apparent until we'd ordered and the girl in Argos was counting out his money; the Bank of Dad had to step in to dig him out. Clever move).

Pro-crastinator is now sitting upstairs vibrating the whole house with his Pro-gaming chair. I'm sitting in mine putting in some professional liver abuse.