One day, a few weeks ago, I sat and watched my bored son grimace, whine, beg, roll over, stomp, tear and rush his way to getting some fun during his summer holidays.
While I watched him I drew the picture.
While it’s just a whacky picture by the standards of those who draw, by my own standards it’s practically a damn masterpiece!
So that’s my son. His slice of bread with jam. His glass on milk. And no it wasn’t meant to be grey but white on white is no good ergo.
The little things by his feet are the numerous toys we all keep tripping on and the Kaboom is my head exploding.
You saw it here first! And just remember…your Muse is out there. Somewhere. In a galaxy far, far, far or right under your nose. Being yelled at for leaving sticky, jammy handprints on furniture.