Caught Red Handed

My boys arrived back from their father's house tonight, reticent and belligerent as usual. One twin had a cauliflower ear from playing football with the other twin - expletives were silently mouthed at each other, with relevant hand gestures to signal war once Daddy had said farewell. My eldest ushered his father out of the building with a patronising hand scoop towards the front door.

Once father had left the building, the twins dived into a scrum of feet, fists and frantic need to batter each other,  my eldest son, however, ushered me towards the kitchen.

Shutting out the frackar, he turned to me placing his six foot two bulk against the door and asked if I had anything I wanted to discuss with him.

"Don't think so" I replied. "Ok, university applications. Yes, and further reading." 

"Nope, not what I had in mind," he replied, looking at me square in the face. "I was more thinking on the lines of a blog," he continued.

"Great, right about your love of pure maths. That would be great to talk at interview. If you write a blog, I am sure that universities would readily receive it as a form of research," I responded.

He narrowed his eyes, " Really, would they? "

I raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"Would you like to explain your blog to me, Mum?"

I roared with laughter. He narrowed his eyes further. 

"How is your blog funny at all?"

As I explained to him, if I had written "Fifty Shades" and earns zillions of dollars would there be a complaint. His retort was that I had not written the book and that reference to "crusty sheets" was wrong on every level!

Every level maybe but you and I have still been caught red handed boy!