The Little Things

I’m on a football road trip with one of my boys. Doesn’t happen often, and it’s great fun. He’s making me a Premier Inn morning cuppa, and the stringy bit from the teabag has separated from its origin and fallen to the depths of the mug.

Previously he sprayed his deodorant in the bathroom, and I nearly choked on the fumes when I took a shower afterwards. What do they put in that stuff? And what’s wrong with good all soap and water I ask you?

Life, as well as the Devil, is in the details. The little things that make us laugh, or complain, or wonder, or cry, or smirk.

Now we travel on. And hopefully Notts County win this afternoon against Barrow, in their first match under the new manager.

But that’s out of our hands.

For me, it used to be all about - the next match, or holiday, or gig, or anything that I was waiting, in anticipation, to happen. In reality, the potential happy ending future was always out of my hands, and I was often dreaming my life away.

These days The Little Things happening now, and surrounding the main event, have become the main event.

I think that’s probably healthier.

As long as those deodorant fumes haven’t damaged my lungs.

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