Letters to my sons.

Dear Son,

This weekend was the first time in your lifetime that the Black and Whites put one over the great-unwashed Red and White filth of Wearside. Hopefully this will be the first of two for this season before they disappear from the Premier League.

Your mother doesn’t like prejudices being taught to children although! We took your cousin Lewis to St James’ Park for his first Toon game a few years ago and when the fans started singing “Stand up if you hate Sunderland,” she was the first to her feet and then picked up Lewis and held him in the air while singing her guts out. I knew at that point that I was marrying the right woman.

Yesterday we got a first look at your teeth, two little buds of white on the gum line. You have been chewing everything in site for a good few weeks now and your mother confirmed this morning that your teeth are through as you were being breast-fed. You seem to enjoy chewing the big toe on your left foot as well. As soon as you are naked the leg goes up and the foot goes into the mouth for a chew. Inspired by this I tried the same thing and I did manage to get my toes into my mouth but not with the same ease and panache. You don’t huff and puff as much and grumble about having a beer belly.

I need a challenge to get me fit. Maybe another stab at the White Mountain?