Milk

The story of my sister and her best friend.
I have told you this tale before. A lady lived up the road from my dads house and she was always cross that me and my best friend would sit on the rocks at the end of her garden. This is not about that but some years later she came to my mom and said that T and H had pushed in the tops to her milk bottles. Mom spoke to them both and they denied it. Mom defended them and it wasnt until some years later that T and H owned up to having done this dreadful dead. At this point mom was in a quandry. Should she go and speak to the woman who she was now on speaking terms with and apologise or was it best to let sleeping dogs lie. Oh the difficulty of being a parent. I dont think she ever mentioned it again.