Sunday morning

I am sitting in the boma in the garden on a perfect morning watching the bulbuls eating left over pawpaw, surrounded by the detritus of Scientist #2's birthday bash. There are bodies strewn around the lounge, the study, the TV room and his bedroom, and I know that when they eventually emerge there will be some sore heads to be dealt with. The dogs also look a little worse for wear - and guilty too - I know exactly who's responsible for the scattered pizza boxes, McDonald's packets and chewed up polystyrene cups.