Confessions of a scatterbrain

'We wouldn't do that said Tim!
Dee groaned as her charge moaned and said he hadn't touched anything.

Dee moaned and shivered as she stood on the tow-path and wished there had been time to grab her coat from the Boy's Brigade own canal boat where she cramp her style and become a surogate mother instead.

She called in the night as she stepped round the thick ropes attached to glamorous boats or every-day barges where warm lights lit her path as she yelled for all the lost boys to return to their home near Foxton Locks. Big trouble would follow if these lads, on the cusp of man-hood, at least saw sense and came home to their beds.

The last any of this gang had been seen was that tea-time when all the food Dee had lovingly prepared had found its way, not even surreptiously, to the bin.

Poor Dee shivered, crossed her legs a little bit tighter, called out louder for these boys who rejoiced at their freedom but away from the park and the swings. Dee simply wished she could be away to her nice, cosy bed; where she read the last of My Weekly. Twice a month she'd flick through the covers, near the Sainsbury's stand, if she wasn't in it, she wouldn't buy it.....but generally did as frankly it was a good magazine.....to be continued!