Slip Sliding Away
A curious mathematical realisation struck me this morning. Yesterday I was exactly half the age of my Father, but today I'm gaining on him rapidly. Still, forty-four sounds quite snappy. Next year I'll be forty-five and that just sounds like the speed of an old vinyl single or half-time at a football match.
Speaking of which, there was much delight in the Zed household yesterday after Inverness Caley's three-nil defeat of Hibs. My son came home from the match chanting "easy, easy". His happiness increased later the day as he watched the snow fall over the town. He's been longing for this since the day he blew his Christmas money on a bright plastic sledge from the local garden centre.
"This day just gets better and better!" he exclaimed.
It doesn't take much to please an nine-year old boy. Or a forty-four year old boy, for that matter.
Even if it is downhill from here.
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