Those Random Memories (Or How We Craft a Life)

Recently, I’ve been having a running “battle” with my five year old son, Ewan, around the topic of age.

You see, last month, I turned 47, and to Ewan, that’s really old. Like, really old.

So old, in fact, he can’t wrap his still-innocent head around why it’d be wrong for a 47-year old man to be with a 15-year old girl – the age he thinks his mum is.

But I digress…

On the way home from the train station tonight, after my wife had brought the kids...