... I worry about Baby Troll sometimes...
Yesterday, immediately after we'd dropped Troll off at the bus station as he was returning to the Algerian Autistic Man Camp (aka his workplace), a very chi-chi blonde, resplendent in Big Shades, and driving a little, trendy, sports car pulled out in front of us.
"I LOVE HER" screeched Baby Troll, his eyes out on stalks
"Don't be ridiculous, Baby - you don't even know her. She could be a horrid old moo"
"No, she looks lovely. She looks NICE. I bet she'd look after me. I LOVE HER"
Bear in mind here Baby Troll is not quite eight years old. Which beggars the question what on EARTH is he going to be like when he's 14? Or 18, for that matter?
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