My nephew is no stranger to the usual bumps and bruises that come with growing up as an energetic boy. Some time ago, I can't remember how exactly, but he was the proud owner of a shiny black eye much to his mother's despair. The bruise faded but it appears the memory stayed with him for reasons known only to himself.

This summer we all went for a jam packed day out to the seaside, stopping off on the way at a ruined castle situated ideally at the half-way point of the journey. Much fun was had exploring the collapsed innards and culminating in Andrew and I taking a walk around the battlements (I think that's what they're called). A somewhat brisk walk around led to a flippant comment from me of how far we'd walked and how difficult it had been. For some reason this triggered Andrew's brain and the following conversation commenced...

Andrew: "Yes but not as difficult as, you know, when I had the B word"
Me (confused): "pardon?"
Andrew: "you know, the B word... oh, don't make me say it... you know, when I had the, oh, the B word..."
Me: "Uhm..."
Andrew: "Oh it was so hard, when I had, you know, the..."

And then, at the top of his lungs, for every passerby to hear and for his Mum to crumple in a simultaneous fit of embarrassment and the giggles...

"WHEN I HAD A BLACK EYE..."

This event has kept us amused for a while and after the initial trigger mentions of the "B word" have since tapered off as he finds other ailments to dramatise over. Then the other day I received the text from Rosie: