Going to the big dishco in the field full o' mud
While I was hurrying to the Repair Factory this morning after dropping Finn to the showbizschool, I noticed quite of lot of unusual activity in town.
Tons of young ones in their twenties, with pink wellies on, rucksacks, folded tents that will never be folded back into their carrier bag, rain ponchos.
A lot of them were lugging shopping trolleys loaded with half a ton of booze that they would jealously guard in their tent for fear of seeing it getting stolen, missing most of the festival in the process.
Young ones in their droves were heading for the coaches that would take them to the Electric Picnic. They were full of expectations, parental advice, spare smart phone, half a dozen power banks for their spare smart phones, cash, prepaid debit cards, half a dozen condoms for the most hopeful, illicit substances for the most careless. They were off to the Electric Picnic.
And I was off to the Repair Factory. And strangely enough, I wouldn't have swapped places. I must be getting really really really old.
In other news, my two resident teenagers were up to no good for about 45 minutes after dinner. They were in the other room, giggling and busying themselves. With more giggling thrown in and a lot of orders shouted by Luca. And more giggles.
When I found out what they had been up to, I must admit that I laughed so loud I almost released a little bit of wee.