The Boy got his A Level results this week and he did well so he is off to the university of his choice to study film and tv production at the end of September.
We're obviously delighted for him and we've spoilt him rotten since he got his grades. I also think he's really looking forward to the new life, the new environment and the new challenges that lie ahead – and, more importantly, studying something he loves doing for three years.
The Missus, however, is starting to realise her little boy (who is in reality an 18-year-old young man who stands at 6ft and towers above her) will be leaving home and it will just be me and her.
I think she's quite worried by this. I sometimes catch her staring at me with a look that exudes both love and desperation. I imagine it is how serial killers look at their prey before the knife goes in. But I could be wrong...