Byron kom hem klockan 23:30 efter att ha varit på en hockeymatch, väldigt sent så klart och väldigt trött var han.

Han kommer in genom dörren.

"Mmmh-hahahaha. Hi Duuuuulia! That was the best game eeeveeeeeeer. I'm gonna call Abba (dad) and tell him I'm still on the T, haaaaa-hahah!"

Han ringer host dad och lämnar ett flummigt meddelande på telefonsvararen.

"Oh, did I say it was Byron?"
"I think he heard it sweetie"
"I'm gonna call again"

"Hiii Abba, it's Byrooooon. It's 11:30 and I'm STILL ON THE TTTTTTTT!! Aaaah-haaa-haaaa. The game was aaaaaaawesome, it went to overtiiime-he-he-heeeeee."

Vrider sig i soffan, sjunker ner, förställer rösten, pratar ner i kudden, flummar totalt.

"Iiiiii'm having YOGHURT. with. GRANOLAAAAAAAA! Haaaa-heeee-HOOOOOO! Hahaha. Mmm-tttt-oooo-AAAAA-triiiiiiiiiPEEEEE. Haha, I said PEE, gaaaaah-haha! Oka-ay, see you lateeeeer, I love you. And, did I say, IT'S BYYYYYROOOOON!!"

"OKAY B, I think it's time to go to bed.."

Så jäkla skön. Trötta ungar alltså.