"You're being ridiculous!" contains true stories of my experiences at the mercy of my foster children. I have written about the trials and tribulations of being a foster carer and the love and laughter that this has brought to me over the last six years. The first to arrive were Owen, aged seven and Neil, aged six. I write of the events of their arrival, their likeness to a couple of lion cubs and their irrational inability to agree on who went first or last at anything. A shopping trip that resulted in unattended children being returned to me like lost property. A freezer incident in a supermarket that was nothing short of horrific with a child having to be pulled from a chest freezer. A trip to a soft play centre that can only make you recoil in embarrassment for me. Should I mention the pee wars debacle, a six year olds explanation of mating Turtles and an excruciating tea time conversations? Out of the mouths of babes and you can join with me in my feelings of despair of these moments while also hearing the ringing of the choral tutters in my ears; my description of bystanders who tut their disapproval as if their children would never behave in this way. I continue with the antics of Josh (nine), William (eight), Max (five), Tom (three), Brian (seven) and Kevin (seven). There are stories of Josh's ability to fix my Wi-Fi, Williams comedic skills, Max's desires to be a pirate and Tom's way of saying excuse me that nearly drove me to distraction - Coomee! A painfully long weekend with Brian who spoke as if he was fifty and thought I was obtuse. Then there was Kevin who literally said Kevin-says-no to every question whether his final answer was no or not. Finally, Jamie was five when he came to me and his questions, often anatomical, always posed in the most earnest of fashions but in the most awkward of places and ones that I was always ill prepared for answering. His torturous counting incorrectly to 100 on a car journey. His lack of knowledge and shock at realising that girls don't have a penis and the conversation that then ensued. His swimming pool changing room observation of a furry lady and his earnest description announced to everyone as to how he thought the daddy's seeds get into mummy's tummy; they eat them apparently! Boys will be boys and I loved everyone of them. Combined with these true tales, I have also included the odd bit of slightly more serious text to remind the reader that these children are vulnerable but were also fiercely protected by me under any circumstances and regardless of the volume of choral tutting! No one is left in any doubt about the love, laughter and joy that being a foster carer has brought to me. My joy at having been a part of their lives and my hope that one day they may come back into my life with their own memories.