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Tuesday 4th October 2022

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To be fair u-turning is better than turning. If you turn you end up somewhere else entirely, if you uturn you are at least on the same road. Would you rather be heading the wrong way on a familiar road or taking the chance of driving along a road that you don’t know? Exactly. So let’s Truss is Liz and make this country great again.

My son turns five tomorrow. Which means it is five years today that we went into hospital (he was born in the very early hours of the 5th, but we'd had a long wait in an over stretched hospital and finally Catie gave birth in basically a cupboard) and endured a very difficult time, before he popped out like a cork from a bottle and I was too scared to cut his umbilical cord because I was shaking too much from the stress. No one went through a harder time than me that night. 
I’d say it has gone quickly but that day feels like a million years ago now.
It was exciting putting a 4 year old to bed, knowing that he’d wake up in the morning and be 5. That’s a pretty big deal for him and not just because he’s getting Roblox tomorrow. I think 4 was my perfect age and you can’t go back (I’ve tried) and so that’s it for him. It won’t get any better than it was tonight. When you’ve only had four birthdays and can probably only remember one, then a birthday is a magical and rare and wondrous thing. I didn’t know if I’d get the kids to sleep tonight (and I had to as I was working alone and had snooker at 8pm -and had only got in from football at 6.45), but in spite of the electricity in the air Ernie went down quickly. But then again he’d done swimming and football after a full day at school so maybe that’s not surprising. I half shut the door on my little four year old and I will never see him again.
My four year old daughter has long gone. 
What happens to the four year olds?
Only my own four year old managed to survive and is still in charge of operations in here.

And it’s nuts to think that Phoebe was only just five when we went into lockdown. Time must be an illusion. It stretches and changes seemingly at its own whim. 



Some tired snooker tonight, but everything is tired right now. And probably forever. Until I sleep the long sleep of death.


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