Thanks son...

I was walking up from Grasmere towards Grisedale Tarn on Monday carrying most of the gear and food for two nights of wild camping with my nine-year-old son. I was carrying a pretty heavy load and so kept to what I like to think of as a steady and measured pace, but at one point had to stop for a breather. I apologised to my son for the stop, to which he replied: "That's ok. You're carrying a lot -- and you're old."

You should be so lucky!

I remember an ex-policeman telling me that he didn't get on too well with his son, who once said to him... "What was it like when you were alive dad?"

you've brung him up right proper for him to actually notice...erm...the heavy bit...

How old are you Guy?

Addick wrote (see)

How old are you Guy?

come on Guy don't be shy. I only asked 'cos my son is 9 and i'm 55, he recently asked me if i was alive at the fire of London.

Yeah, my daughter was doing a project for her history GCSE and started asking me all about rationing during WW2.

I was born in 1959.