The Letter of the Law

In school we have pet tadpoles and seedlings and worms. So on the way home I was full of demands to have my own pet snail (I only need a shoebox and a lid of grass, honest) but Jof is apparently allergic to slugs and snails, opinion on puppy dog's tails unknown.

But I did secure permission to have a wormery in an old Coke bottle. But tasks got in the way.

We now have a personalized number-plate for the car. These things can be very expensive if it's got hardly any letters and numbers in it, or if it makes a word or name. For example the Dear Old Queen owns "A1" and you or I would not be able to afford it. And sometimes you can get a boring-looking one that changes if you move the space.

For one registration year (H) you could get things like H1 JON but not everyone can afford H1 so you got things like H18 ERT or H17 ACK where they move the space along to make H1 7ACK and H1 8ERT. And you see these things all the time.

So we'd got the eligibility document from the government and went into the garage and they said not on your Nellie, mate, it's against the law. Turns out that people get the shuffled plates from disreputable online plate printers and have a spare pair of legal ones in the boot where they swap them back for the MOT test, because it would fail if it was shuffled. What a bag of poo, and a palaver.

Later, Flynn took me to Scouts because Bud was vomiting too much and I had a good time.