The Pensioner

By Pensioner

Donald

Awakened by a phone call. Before 9am! It was the daughter wondering if we were in and if we were amenable to a visit from her with the grandkids. She’d already been awake for four hours, and the s-i-l was snoring his head off having had a night out with chums (they swap this about to keep sane). 
And of course we were. And the kiddies were in good spirits; I read awhile to small boy, sat and ate grapes, and we watched out the window for exciting passing traffic.
And then to main event - Donald’s 80th birthday. An honour to be invited along, and what a tremendous event Toots had put together for the man - the love in the room was palpable. We had musicians, singers, and much reading of poetry. I’ll skip over my own modest contribution of course. 
But then we had to flee - the nippers had arrived back from Molly’s wedding with tales to tell. 
Time to check that weather forecast and pack. Some wet weather gear, I fear.

Comments
Sign in or get an account to comment.