Playdates for my son?

Dear Housing Division,

Yesterday afternoon I invited one of my son's school friends to play on Thursday. His mum said he was 'busy', how about 'after half term?'

I stumbled on my emotions, yet again. "Yeah, sure, but I er, don't know where we'll be living then."

Momentarily she stood in my boots, you could see it in her features, and she said: "It'll be alright."

I crossed my fingers tight like the National Lottery symbol, grinned a mighty smile, and shook them in the air. "Yes, yes it will be!"

Oh the pretence. I can't pretend. She texted me later saying she'd try and rearrange her child's activities so he could come and play. She signed it 'Lots of love," and I sent her back 'a big hug'.

Our next home, Housing Division, where will you put us? Will the flat be a good size or a cell? Will my son be close to his school, close to his friends? I so want his social life to take off, to invite a friend or friends, disappear into his own room, his own den, to entertain them. Have film nights now and again. I want him to feel the joy of receiving in order to give, to entertain.

I know my options, my choices, but only you, Housing Division, can offer my child what he needs. You and Camelot.

Don't make an example of me, make one only of my child, of what you yourselves want for our country's children, while I try and go out and get that.

I'm helping you, I am, I'm bidding. You know that, I know.

Praying for a miracle,

Kind regards,

Sue de Nim

Didn't send it. What's the point? Is there a point?