I climb out of the car and closely followed by my Dad with the wheelchair, saunter casually into the pub. It is Saturday, 11.30 opening. There are a few wastrels in there already. Dad gets a bollocking from the poacher for being late. We are on time, so Dad tells him to bugger off!
Di is on duty for the first half-hour, then Sharon takes over. Jez has his kids.
It is F.A.Cup final day here in the U.K. The biggest day in the footballing calendar. Di has hot dogs planned for half-time. I hope the turn-out will be good!
3pm. Dad arrives and I
stagger saunter out of the pub and back home for a snooze!
Life is not so bad!