Let me take you on a strange journey, to the land of black, white and grey tones. To the days prior to disposable nappies, lycra togs and sun safety for baby skin. Back to the good old days when mums were mums, dads were dads and big brother was just the idiot who kept poking you in the eye and practising swear words on you before you were too old to tell on him.
This was 1963. This is what I think of when people ask where were you when President Kennedy was shot.
The back yard, the beach, the pram. The tranquility.
Nads
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