On breaking wind
"Our Father, who art in heaven"
School assembly, cross-legged on a wooden floor.
"Give us this day, your daily bread."
God, it echoes.
"Forgive us our tresssspasssessss"
And everybody, but everybody knows it is you sitting at the epicentre.
"The power and the glory."
Ah, beans, beans the musical fruit.
"And deliver us from evil," said Mr George, reciting the Lord's Prayer, winding it up with the now familiar "Forever and ever..."
Oh, sweet Jesus, I am so, so sorry.
* Tomorrow, I shall be mostly putting on my socks and sandals and heading out for a bit of train spotting. Misty will be in charge of the Friday tale of mirth and woe, and I have demanded nudity and/or sick inna hedge.
Nothing can possibly go wrong.