An early start for a Sunday; with Tom still dozing, Alex and I boarded a 200 to Sooth Gyle for his game against Portobello. I got stuck in aboot putting up nets and chiding the boys into starting to their warm up and then wandered off to shoot the 60's architecture nearby. 

She arrived avec chien and we set about McDs for some coffee before wandering back to throw a ball for Loki and Dottie and half watch the 12-0 cuffing that was going on. Ach well.

Bus home; lunch was administered (chicken bacon sweetcorn tarragon mayo wraps) before tom annoucned his intention to go and watch some of the sporting spectacles at his friend's house (The Ugly Sisters Viaplay Cup Final, the Utd v Utd Caribou Cup Final / France v Scotland 6 Nations)

I walked Her up to Morrison's and bade then adieu before heading back to watch the sport mesel. Poor 'imindoors. 

Dinner; and then Tom finally arrived home for his dinner and I came through to find him with his head on the table, gazing across at his glass in which he had his index finger, exclaiming how marvellous it was that his finger looked fat when viewed in water. He claimed not to have been under the influence of narcotic substances but I beg to differ 

(On Monday his mother appropros of nothing asked if he'd seemed tipsy on Sunday; he came home from school on Monday extolling the virtues of tequila)