I’ve had beef stew in the slow cooker all day and Mr triple S has an early finish on Fridays. I threw some yogurts, apples and mini cheddars in a bag, picked up a blanket and made my two change the minute they got home so we could take a stroll over the park to sit for an hour where we all watched the guys fishing and chatted about how they are getting on at school and how a woman at work has taken a dislike to Mr Triple S and talks to him like he is slow (she sounds awful but I understand her
). Now back, fed and everyone in their rooms. As I’m sitting here I’m just so desperately sad for those boys. They look so unwell in every picture she shares. I wonder when the last time was she whisked them out on a whim because the weather was nice? The whiteness and eye bags suggest never. They come home to no dinner until 11 o clock at night in their filthy little hovel and a Mum sitting tweeting all day and night to literally no one. It makes me so sad.