Family Fun Days at the local rugby club – need I say more?
When Bank Holidays do sunshine they do in spectacular fashion. Our wedding was one of them, today was another. Basking in the beautiful British tradition that is the rugby fun day complete with live band and hot dogs I hadn’t a care or socially inept faux pas in the world. Enter H man.
My son is at a glorious age…he knows no barriers, he feels no shame, he likes rugby balls.
Funny thing at events like this, there tends to be a few rugby balls lying around, they tend to be either in use or nonchalantly chilling, legs splayed very near fifteen or so confident, bronzed and brazen young men adopting the same pose.
H wanted a ball, H went for a ball.
Now, one could pick up the ball and return it to the hands of one of the above, but why do that when you can kick it? I think we all know what happens next.
The scene is palpable. Fifteen pairs of strong abbed eyes, one ball, one foot never to be fated to meet, a snigger, a guffaw, a waddle back to the family area dragging a less than pleased H and leaving dignity where his beloved ball still lay.
It all started so well. 
sociallyineptmum 