Last week the Teen asked, Mum! A friend of mine has been turfed out. Can he stay here till he finds somewhere else?
Well, ok. As long as he knows I don't have a room for him. The Elder graciously said he could use her stretcher bed.
So he moved in. The Teen did forget to tell him that I didn't have a room for him though! She told him on the morning he was supposed to arrive. Poor boy.
He's quiet. Not as young as I thought he was. He's 20. He's a chef. I'm getting my meals cooked for me. He doesn't have a good home life. He's fragile and broken. Hopefully not beyond repair.
He tells me that he's never had a family. He's insecure and has no self esteem. I'm hoping that might be changed a small bit by the time he leaves. We keep telling him that what he cooks is marvellous. And that's not an exaggeration - it's 'plain fare' but he made the sausages taste like they had been on the barbeque. And that's gotta be a plus.....
2 comments:
Oh dear! The poor lamb! A week with you lot is bound to shatter him beyond repair!...be sure to give him my sympathies...haha.
Hey, he can come cook for me! And watch those two together - he is an older man remember...
yes, i agree. Oh, and when he's done at your place, and Col's place, you can send him our way.... :-)
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