I couldn't sleep, in bed, last night, as I had already slept on the sofa, in front of the television. I have learnt from sad experience, that 30 minutes' sleep, on the sofa, equals up to 4 hours' wakefulness in bed, so I accepted that I had turned into my mother, and attempted to embrace my punishment.
I knew, absolutely, that I was the only person awake in the whole of the universe, as I disciplined my thoughts and penned the following:
Our youngest son informed me, yesterday, that he would not be taking up his university place, unless he passed his driving test, which he is due to re-take a little later in the month. My jaw dropped, as I remembered multiple zoomings, up and down the motorway, to take him to interviews, in various parts of the country. My mind flashed back to overnight stays, early breakfasts, when it was still dark outside, and the destruction wrought upon my only umbrella, on a particularly wet and windy day in Chester.
The visit to the uni, with the grubby canteen, and the local in-bred students, in the place-I-dare-not-name, was an experience I definitely would have chosen to have lived without, had I realised that we were simply involved in an exercise of futility.
Further questioning of my son, in a somewhat strangled voice, revealed that the son, who wanted to attend a university as far away from his parents as it was possible to be, had now decided that he wanted to come home every weekend, and could not suffer the inconvenience of public transport.
Aaaah! He is my little innocent! He imagines that his tank will always be overflowing with petrol, that his key will still fit the lock, on his return, and, even that, we will still be living here, 5 days after he has moved away.........
A good bit of gossip
13 hours ago