"Mummy, Mummy" calls at 2.30, 3.15, 4.14 and 5.45 do not a coherent thinker make. And giggles at the same time coming from the non-verbal one do not make for a lighter atmosphere. The discovery that kicking the foot with the sats probe on it can make the machine alarm is not a funny joke either.
Mog is fine, sorry for lack of updates. She's just finished a full five days of school, hurrah.
Krispy Kreme make a coffee filled doughnut. I did not need to know this.
I think I'm thankful that Little Princess waited until she got home from the party before throwing up the vast quantities of party food she'd clearly scarfed down at the party itself.
I know I'm thankful she missed the Princess dress. And I'm reasonably certain I'm grateful to her for grabbing a bathtowel.
I'm definitely sure I'll appreciate the moment when she can reach the basin or aim for a jug or hey, better yet, work out that moderation is a good thing. But I'm also pretty sure I'm thankful for the fact she can enjoy party food and parties.
We have builders. I'm discovering that there are in fact builders out there who turn up when they say they will, and do the work they say they will do. This pleases me. They've also managed to move a wall without damaging the flooring in the shrinking room, so I won't have to replace it. This pleases my bank account. Unfortunately it will no longer be possible to fit new settee plus bubble tube along shortened wall; I wonder whether I can shoehorn the bubble tube into Mog's bedroom.
Photos would follow but I have no internet access. This does not please me. And the explanation "ah you see, it's because you have a very low signal to noise ratio. This means there's very little signal and lots of noise on the line." does not do very much for me either. Nor does the information engineers may have it fixed by the 30th.
My ear hurts. It has hurt on and off ever since I went to the dentist a year or so ago. But it's ached solidly for the last week and I can't chew properly. I do not want to go back to the dentist.
LP has a Birthday coming up. Next weekend I shall briefly be responsible for two dozen small children. This is possibly scarier than the thought of going back to the dentist.