Freedom at last

Digging my bum onto one of my favourite sofa, my cup of coffee in on hand, I let that Sunday morning feeling wrap me once more, when a loud voice drags me out of a close by dream land. “Ah, Freedom at last” I open my eyes curious. A tall man –I bet on the spot, a former rugby man- is moving with a friend of him –another tall man- to the sofa in front of me, one holding a baby with him. His friend echoes his words “You’re right, Freedom at last”. I close and open my eyes again… They have a baby with them… and they are still blasting “Freedom at last”. Fascinating… looking after a baby a new definition of freedom… What on earth are they escaping from?

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