Dad’s world with Jonathan deBurca Butler
As usual, it had been a while, a whole two months, since we’d been out together. A good 60 days of shouting up and down the stairs at each other, trying to communicate between flailing legs, dirty bums and flying food.
The only time we get to chat is when we eventually sit down at 8.30pm most nights and shovel our dinner into us. These nights out are few and far between, so when an offer comes along we usually jump at it.
