Once again, I'm a little late with the birthday acknowledgement here in blogworld. My laddie had his 23rd birthday yesterday. He came for dinner with his girlfriend and a couple of other friends and it was very jolly with all the young people about, although they did display a disturbing propensity for reminiscing about youthful behaviours best unheard by mothers. But my goodness, how can he be such an age? It simply does not compute in a maternal brain. Even though he has moved out, in my mind he's simply off playing house somewhere for awhile. He's still, as the picture below is labelled in my photo album, my Chuckster-Pookster! (Sorry, Laddie!)
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I don't know why the picture appears in this gigantic box but I can't make it otherwise. So there you are.
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