Sore feet…

He can crawl! He can walk (with a +1)! He can climb up highchairs whilst stranded at service stations and brain himself!

In which the Mittons find themselves stuck at Membury Leigh Delamere services and whilst awaiting rescue discover a wireless hotspot, crack open the laptop and are about to set up various websites along the likes of M4NuclearSpill.com when they unexpectedly run out of credit.

The least said about the actual beginning the better. Infact we both deny such a thing could have occured.

The first I knew was that familiar feelng of being not quite right. Ill. Out of sorts. Off colour. As if a parasite was stealing all my resources.

So I ‘found’ an NHS stick to wee on and there was a choir of angels. It was 5am on a dodgy nightshift and I was in the midst of caring for the drunks and elderly of Exeter but a miracle still occured, lo, in a stable.

Jim was informed of his great fertility in the renal carpark. He was very proud.

Of cours, we’re not actually TELLING any of you yet…

With Jim on nights the entire Mitton clan have the perfect excuse to disappear off to Exmouth, eat ice cream, play top quality golf and try to recreate the tanometer.

Experimental new picture feature here.