Sat opposite my Dad as he watches the races and eats his toast.
He may be short, his hair going white (I tell him it suits him) and he may support Bolton Wanderers, but he's a truly remarkable man.
I love my Dad.
It's times like these where you begin to appreciate everything.
Apart from the fact that after yesterdays hormones and fireworks, today's day of gardening doesn't really appeal to me.
At all.
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