the comfort that is Bob.

Still tired and fighting his chest infection. Nap time his and as often happens I find Bob firmly clamped in hand and jaw. He (and his two fellow Bobs) have bald spots and even drop bits of stuffing everywhere they go, which basically is everywhere Alfie goes.

Me, still tired and not sure why, just fighting! Life etc. is meant to get easier as you get older, you understand more so therefore can deal with more. Well B*ll*cks to that, I understand less and people even less. Life is hard at times and then a little boy will do his 'funny laugh' and crease me up and it is all alright again for a while.

Sometimes I wish I had a Bob who could cure all ills. I suppose I do, his name is Alfie.