My perfect boy?

In my local this evening, enjoying my last liquid anaesthetics for a week - I start nights tomorrow. Chilling pretty nicely, in keeping with the cold beer. And then a grenade lands in the middle of the pub. An extended family, three adult women, possibly sisters, and a veritable passel of kids. They were, to be as charitable as I can, more than a bit chavvy. It got a bit raucous, but not ridiculously so. Amongst it all, though, was Ryan. The oldest of the youngsters, 11/12, and seemingly a surrogate carer to some of the smaller siblings/cousins. He wasn't supercute, but he was a nice-looking boy, and, from conversation I heard, not a wide-eyed innocent. Knowing, was the adjective that came into my head. Cammy was here, too, although he didn't see me, and he's a very special little dude, but Ryan, just heading into puberty and beginning to be acquainted with 'the ways the world', would have been just the sort of guy I'd give my eye teeth to take home. Never going to happen in a million years, of course. FML.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B