Teenwolf whips up the pack. In our house. Sob, snotter, palpitate.

Travelling with Teenwolf is a mixed blessing.

Blessing. I know where he is.

Mixed blessing. Usually asleep


Trailing down the road the sun is beating into the car. The dogs are snarly, too hot, panting and grumpy in the boot. We know this by intermittent wafts of halitosis and snarling as they unexpectedly stand on each others tender bits.


Teenwolf is in the back. The stuff that we have forced into the car is liable to suffocate a lesser man but he is boldly slumped in there with his bright green headphones on – imperative for any journey – a bottle of water and a shut eye.


This is why it amazes me by the time we have got where we are going he has rallied his troops and there is to be a happening in our garden.

The only way this was discovered was cos out of the silence, amongst the piles of stuff in the back came this statement out of the blue ‘Oh Hi – yeh I know it’s weird I can’t text so I am phoning’

(Weird now to phone OK take note for handbook.)

‘Yeh tonight. Yeh nine. Yeh about 8. K. C U. Bye’


Swinging my head into the back seat I ask in my fake sweet voice ‘So….what was that about?’

‘Oh I’m having a barbeque’

‘A barbeque? Where’

‘In the communal garden.’

‘Oh. When’




What with .

Ryans taking sausages.

Sausages and people – wow that will go off like a bang.  I thought but was not foolish enough to actually say.

So how many of you are there… we are interrupted by buzzing another call for Harvey Goldsmith of Edinburgh.

‘Hi yeh my text isn’t working. I know it is weird. Yeh mine. Yeh a few. Yeh cu there’

How many of you then?

A few

What’s a few?
Bout 10

Phone rings again…yeh sure  take the girls. Great.


By the time we get home the atmosphere in the car is cold. Tempted though we were to just say no. We know better than that so laid down conditions which we expect will be ignored.


6pm one of his pals turned up to get things ready.

Things ready?

Ryans taking the sausages what is there to get ready?

Oh you know

No not really.

Well.. anyway see you later k.

( I have also learnt to say OK is too strenuous so it has been shortened to K’?

So with two bags packed with rugs, sweatshirts and a few suspicious clunky noised bottles they left.

2 hours later. I get a text. ‘Ryan forgot the sausages. Have we got any crisps?’

Call me a softie or call me  horrified that heis  not taking the family lead of over egging rather than under egging the catering pudding or just call me someone who know the dangers of beer on an empty stomach but I found sausages burgers walloped them into the oven wrapped them all up and texted him –come and get the food.


Promised to be in at midnight. Leave no stour and be up early to study.

12.30 no sign
Today is not going to be a good day.


Writer & broadcaster.

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