Sleeping Boy.

Euan speaks in his sleep. Not only does he speak in his sleep, but he seems to wind himself up while he sleeps, too.

He lays there, whispering to himself about monsters eating old school friends and every few seconds he flips his hair out of his face. I am amazed that his neck hasn’t broken in life. Every few seconds he just flicks his hair… I don’t know how he has survived this long. He must always have back pain. I’m sure he should be about six foot, but all the back pain and slouching has made him smaller. Poor wee Euan.

Euan has the weird belief that the stools in his house think they are tables. I still can’t get my head around it. He just said it in town one day; “All the stools in my house think they are tables”… he said it is because they always have stuff sitting on them. To be honest, in most houses I wouldn’t attribute the behaviour to the object, but Euan’s house is weird.

That was the same day that Euan told me he only had one outfit, and that every night he would wash it on his little washboard in a stream. I suspected “stream” to mean “river”, but it might be a juicy stream of urine. Who knows with this boy?