the day brian came to visit

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Brian popped by today. Hello! he waved excitedly. Hi, I said, far less excitedly. He's been a tad over-enthusiastic though. He did dry all the washing, except for the duvet cover which is now hanging over the banister on the landing. He also knocked a wind chime off a wall, howled through the windows and threw a garden chair around. Such a cheeky imp, he is. He's still here, but I'm ignoring him. Anybody who wants to have a tantrum and mess up my garden is no friend of mine. I knew another Brian who used to come and visit us when we were little. He always had Smarties in his coat pocket and he smelt of pipe tobacco. Whenever I smell that smell it transports me back to being six or seven. I was happy when I was that age. He was my uncle, by the way, Father's older half-brother. Mumsy suspects that he was just trying to get in her knickers. *chuckles* And speaking of Uncle Brian, he didn't come to our wedding because he knew that he would get into fisticuffs with Father if he did. In hindsight I wish that I hadn't even bothered to invite Father, but at least I did my bit, eh? And speaking of weddings, yesterday was our eleventh wedding anniversary. We spent the afternoon celebrating by sitting in gridlocked traffic in Tesco car park. I can highly recommend it. Eleven years! How time does fly.