If washing feet means paying attention then, if ever there were feet that needed washing, they were these.
This afternoon I arrived in a city in the north east for an Easter sojurn. Within minutes of updating my Facebook status lauding the cheapness of the beer, a thirteen year old boy was carried passed me insensible with drink.
Outside the Golden Pearl restaurant he collapsed, unconscious, and in need of an ambulance. His friends tell me he was celebrating the end of term.
I resisted the temptation to try to wash his feet as a Facebook photo-opportunity. But. Ye Gods. May we all wash the feet of our young folk before they all end up like this.