I'm troubled about the train trackin' us all trainin' its sights on us. But ye flummoxed 'em with yer nimble jack rabbit trainin', oh aye. Ye should get a medal pinned on ye if no' an OBE.
Listen, I was oop early, I was, an' right ye are aboot that. But I did none of what ye far saw. Instead I forced the children oot o' their strollers and commenced to makin' 'em ta fix me breakkie a-fore they were sent doon tha Welsh mines for me daily rasher o' charcoal for me boos ride. And grateful they were ta have purpose assigned to 'em. But you're a papa. . . you knows 'ow it works. All the while, their ma was still tendin' me garden by flashlight. But I did requisition 'er a sack cloth umbrella against the torrents and gales. Runnin' like an clock, this 'ere household, wif me as captain and lord o' the manner born. Fookin' right.
Oh, and I say those are spiffy sketchings, my good man.
"Not a bit is wasted and the best is yet to come. . ." -- remembered from a dream