My house became a world of trauma, shouting, stomping and tension this morning. No one got up and then when they did everything was all my fault. Where was the bag for HIS laptop then leads, his film camera and connections. The end of the world is nigh and he will never get an A* for his art now, stomp, stomp, stomp. Having got out of bed crawled around collecting bits there seemed to be more shouting and little or no thanks. Hopefully shoving all children and husband out the door when the end of the world 2 happens. WHERE IS MY RED SOCK. Well personally I do think it is probably where you last left it. But of course I was not understanding the significance of the red sock. This was part of the costume and character development of the theatre studies assessment that was happening today, and that red sock was vital. Am I then supposed to crawl around the floor of his pit of a bedroom? I think not. Answer, find another set of red socks wish him good luck and shove him out of the door, all before 8am.