Mix me up a Cinzano and lemonade, it’s like the 70s never went away
Not too long ago we had friends to stay. We’d bought in the services of a neighbour’s daughter to babysit while we went out for a few drinks, paying £5 an hour (the going rate around here).
Rather unfairly we ambushed her on the way in, letting her know that (ahem) there would in fact be four children upstairs, only one of whom was asleep. She took it in her stride, and we nipped off to the pub.
No texts, no calls. When we got back, it transpired that one of our minors had ‘had a little accident’. Not a ‘call 999’ accident, but the sort of accident you have in your pyjama trousers. [Read more…]