Being eight again
Today I picked my mum up from her friends, nothing unusual in that, her friend had been our next-door neighbour, still nothing unusual. Shelia, my mums friend,hasn't been well and cutting story short mum went to her to wait for her son to show. So in walks the son, Martin, and omg I'm eight again looking through the fence hanging on to every word this super cool, gorgeous eighteen year old is saying. Apart from a few lines and a lot of white hair he looked the same . So of course big mouth here tells him *dies* ahh well he was pleased when I said he looked the same anyway... :D