Our favourite place to sit on Sunday mornings, reading, drinking tea. (She's reading "Welcome to Welsh". Chosen unaided. Good luck with that, Tilly.)
My children see the vacuum so infrequently that it's a novelty. Oh look, it blows air! How FUN!
Like I said. Novelty.
Birthday boy again. Because he's just so handsome. And grown up. (SEVEN? Are you sure we didn't skip a year?)
Children's table. Finally. A children's table. Holding hands for grace. No high chairs. No help required. Except for me with my possessed camera which switched settings entirely by itself. No black and white arty-ness intended.
Anyway, you get the picture.
Is it just me that feels like I should kinda still be sitting at the kids table and the grown ups table is for someone else?
How old are you in your head? Honestly, I'm probably fourteen.