A smartly dressed 10-year-old boy approaches the bar with a menu in one hand and £30 in the otherIt is a hot Sunday afternoon,and my wife and I are returning from a weekend in the country. As we step off the train, both of us are thinking approximately the casual damage that may await us after leaving the house and its contents in the care of the youngest one and the middle one for 30 hours: appliances broken, or leaks sprung,supplies decimated.external the pub next to the station, my wife slows her step. Related: Tim Dowling: our tortoise is running amok, or I’m on his side Continue reading...
Source: theguardian.com