Dad's back home - hurrah!
Mum and I arrived at the hospital (me armed with my file of marking, of course) to find Dad fully dressed with his bag packed on the bed. I'm so pleased, because the other chaps who were due to go home yesterday didn't because they couldn't empty their bladders sufficiently and I thought Dad would be the same. However, as he proudly boasted to my Aunt and Uncle earlier this afternoon (to Mum's horror), "I'm going better now than I've been in ages - in fact, I could write my name in the snow!"
Do you know, I was really pleased it was sunny...
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There's a famous joke about that. John Prescott left his house for political reasons. As he left, it was snowing. In the morning, there were words left in the snow, qith a rather yellow tinge, saying "so long".
The local constabulary were concerned that an intruder had got in to a sensitive site, and hired the most experienced experts in DNA and handwriting.
Eventually they came up with some conclusions. The good news was that the urine was Prescott's, so no intruder.
The bad news was that the handwritng was Cherie's...
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