Anyways, I figured the kid had earned a beer, it was the least he deserved.
The highlight of our holiday was when he phoned home to receive the results of his GCSE exams. He wrote them down as they were read over.. with only two "B's", the rest were either "A" or "A star's" (he achieved 100% on several of his papers). Having passed another GCSE last year, in all he has totalled twelve excellent grades, and I am now insufferable! Forgive me for crowing folks, I know how boring a mothers pride can be, but the boy did well, and I can't help but to be as proud as punch (so is his little sis', she's the one holding up the pad for the pic). He is leaning towards entering medicine, and appears to be well on track to achieving this goal. (Though he's told me to dream on, I'm still secretly hoping he'll specialise in cosmetic surgery, in the hopes he'll keep his old mum young and wrinkle-free in her dotage..)
He swopped his school uniform for a suit and tie last week, the official garb for the Lower sixth form, and I allowed him a tailored Calvin Cline pinstripe for his efforts. Thing is, it looked so fabulously smart, when he passed it over to me for a few minor alterations, well, I couldn't resist but to have a bit of fun, could I..?
Ahem, the boy may tower above me, but he sure as hell has got stumpy arms and legs! (Psst, we're not going to tell him though, right?)