Now that Charlie works he wants to be more independent. He can’t afford to get his own place yet so he tries to be independent at home, buying and cooking his own food instead of being tied down to family meal times. I just discovered one small downside to this cunning plan, when he calmly came downstairs and said “Dad….  I think the pan’s on fire”. I went up to the kitchen a little less calmly than Charlie came down, and faster than I have moved anywhere since thursday night’s little adventure with the scalpels, to see the the grill pan burning away nicely under the grill.
I don’t think the boy was worried as much as he was confused that the flames didn’t stop when he turned the gas off. Time to say a little ‘thank you’ to London Underground for all those firefighting courses they make staff and contractors go on every year. I think I might invest in a fire blanket and give a few fire safety lessons myself.
Have you heard of the categorisation of political activists into...
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