To my children.
I may get uptight, I may seem sharp.
I sometimes get cross.
I often mutter “forfucksake” a lot under my breath.
I get annoyed when you shout me at 3am because you need a wee and want company or even worse when you shout me then you’re asleep by the time I’ve dragged my tired arse to your room. Continue reading “For my babies, a letter…”