"Whatchya do? You being a sex pest again?"

HOME, 8am, and the type of noise my youngest sister’s generating downstairs in the kitchen declares her view that if getting up at 8am is good enough for her, it’s good enough for everybody. 

“Look at that sunshine,” she shouts at her children, “shoes on everyone, and take your toast outside.

“It’s a crime to miss a second of that sun,” she bellows above the noise of a colossal, metallic crash.