They were words that struck fear into my heart. How were we going to move on from this? How would this pan out in the future?

“When I am old enough I am going to get a tattoo, like Jim…” said Verity at bedtime last night.

She was always fascinated by the couple of tattoos Jim had on his arm and keeps wanting me to take her into the tattoo parlour we pass on our daily walks. Verity is only three and a half years old.

What the hell am I going to do when she is fifteen???

Somehow I feel I am on a hiding to nothing…

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