When we converted the old pigsty into a BAR/ManCave/Party Room.

About once a month, the kids (in their late teens, early 20’s) would be invited for PARTY Sesh.

I love and adore my boys’ friends and their girlfriends.

On a Sunday morning I’d get up after hearing the stereo system being cranked up to MAXVOL until around 2.am. After which they’d migrate to my kitchen (right under my bedroom) and play Texas Holdum (?) until about 5.am.

I always knew that there would be anything up to 20 kids sleeping somewhere in the house.

But – and this is why I LOVE them all – not a single one would leave until they had cleaned up every single mess they’d made in the bar or the house.

Most were extremely pale and slightly wobbly but…they had enough respect for us not to just eff off and leave without a hug and a thankyou.

I always cooked breakfast/brunch or gave the truly suffering tea/coffee/water/painkillers/a bucket.

Kids. Who’d’ave’em? :o)