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We are staying with friends and the Proles are sharing a double bed.

It being a holiday and all, I am indulging their late night ‘mucking about’ and pretending I cannot hear their surreal surreptitious shouting.

In the end I had to give in and have a look.

Me: I heard crying, are you ok?

Prole2: Is it morning? Can I have that chocolate cereal for breakfast?

Me: No, it’s ten thirty at night, you have not been to sleep yet.

Prole2: Oh, how strange.

Me: Quite. It’s time to go to sleep. Why do you have three pillows and he has only one?

Prole1: Yes, why do you have three pillows and I have only one?

Prole2: Found them. They are mine. I love them.

Prole1: Oh.

Me: Who was crying?

Prole1: Me.

Me: Why were you crying?

Prole1: Well, he grabbed my hand like that, then he punched it into the crack in the head board like that and it bent my finger back and made a crunching.

Me: Oooh, sounds bad.

Prole1: It was.

Me: Can I get you anything?

Prole1: Have you got a back scratcher on you?

Me: Good night boys.

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