Leathery Footballs of Hope

I think my dad was just having a quickie before he went to work.

I think it depends on the parents. Some parents have their children's entire lives planned out (and are bitterly disappointed when the children rebel); some, like me, only hope my kids come out relatively well-balanced and don't turn out to be serial killers, or worse, stockbrokers.

George, my father makes jokes about me being some sort of savings plan that you have to pump thousands of pounds into before reaching payola. Thinking about it, I sound just like a one-armed bandit. And looking at him now, I don't think he could do ANYTHING quickly :)

This conversation from a visit to my mother's house a few weeks ago: Mother: Do you remember your teacher Mr Scrote? (Name made up coz a) she does this to me all the time and b) I can't remember his name). Me: Nope. What year? Mother: You were 10 and he said 'that boy will go far' ... ooo he will be turning in his grave if he could see you now. Me: MY kids: Mrs S: Mother (now getting out holiday snaps): Now that photo is of the bridge... it goes from side to the other. ping-pong ball of hope in my case.

spot the missing word comp.