My son, the Axe Murderer

I wrote about this a little over a week ago; the fancy dress, 21st birthday party we were invited to, the theme of which was “Come dressed as what you wanted to be when you grew up”.

It was the birthday of my stunningly gorgeous niece, whom I highly object to being 21. Even if she is stunningly gorgeous. So there.

The day arrived, and of course we have been so busy that costumes were further down our priority list.

Also, I have strange children with completely random thoughts that make making consutmes slightly harder than average. Not becuase they are hard costumes. Nor that I’m a complete fucktard when it comes to making costumes.

No, because it takes my head quite a few moments to catch on, get my head around it all, think “um, huh? Wait … um …. that’s not … erm … yup, ok, that’ll be fine” because the suggestion is not in any way relevant to the request made.

There we are, racing around extremely large shopping centre

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