twinned with trumpton

By MrFT

After Saturday's exertions at Glentress and the hard graft of eating scampi and chips, it was a slow start to Sunday. Alex up first before the birthday boy finally showed face. 15, eh?

A card / present / cash counting session ensued and smoked salmon bagels for breakfast as requested. 

And off into town; to meet Tom's buddies Boaby, Morgan and William (yes, that William; he who'd smacked Tom in the face on Thursday evening; obviously all water under the bridge now)

Marco's was the venue; I had to sit and supervise so I figured now was as good a time as any to teach Alex how to chalk a cue and work on his bridging hand. 

I suppose I couldn't play at 15 either, but by 17 I was - fairly proficient; just in time to start playing pool in pubs between pints as I turned 18. Maybe Tom will stick in at the Gaelic football (but that'll lead to beer too, so I'm not sure that works either!)

After the pool, we emerged, blinking into the sunlight and Tom's crew headed off for mini golf and 10 pin at Fountain Park (and another £30 of mine) whilst Alex and I headed to Her's for peace and quiet. 

Come 6, I walked Alex round to meet Tom and their mother who was taking them for Mexican on Lothian Road.

I went back and did steak in a jalapeno and blue cheese dressing with rocket in a wrap; before heading home to meet them after their dining experience and finally set about the Caramac inspired birthday cake. 

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