Friday night.  Pub night. 
2 vodka and tonics. Empty stomach.

Brain emptied of all words that were flying around in my head earlier today.

Boys happily sleepy and full of crisps and pop.

Big man cooking pizza, while eating the batch of chilli resting to put in the freezer for while I am away.

I am eating toast. And bovril. Comfort. 

I think I might just fall asleep on the couch.

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