Dad and Mum took me to O’Leary’s today, to see “we are Wolves” play a football match. Rich was there, too, without my school friend (and his daughter) Esther. He let the side down a bit by not having a Wolves shirt on (unlike most of the other people there), but he seemed to be very happy when the side Wolves were playing scored goals. It perplexes me, this game. Ooh, some more popcorn!

Dad was quite nervous for the first part of the game, so it must have been important for him. I happily ate popcorn whilst Wolves were being shown on the many screens around the pub, and Mum, Dad and Rich consumed necessary glasses of beer.

I hear Dad trying to get me to say “Boing Boing”, which is something Rich has taught him, though I suspect the other Wolves supporters would kill Dad if they heard him teaching me the enemies war-cry. It appears Boing Boing has something to do with The Baggies, or West Brom, or Tescos. I’m not really listening because the popcorn keeps coming, and there’s only so much a girl can keep her mind on.

Lots of the other Wolves people there kept patting my head or dancing for me. It was all very nice, especially when Wolves scored a goal, but they didn’t give me much popcorn.

In the end Rich seemed happier than Mum, Dad and Wolves people. I was even happier because the man who gave the beers to people gave me popcorn, all without Dad taking out his money. I guess it pays to be small.