Monday morning bounds in on plastic loafers from the Shoe Warehouse and makes me wonder what the heck happened to the weekend. In fact what happened to weekends in general since that heady night in the Olde Starre Inne when we decided around closing time that it would be a really great idea to have babies.
Beep Beep.
On Saturday we ferried Pooky around to various luvvie engagements, and on Sunday we gained an extra child, Pooky's future wife Lucy, and ran around the National Railway Museum after them. Puggle spent the entire two and a half hours shouting 'beep beep' every time she saw a train. Which was often. I love going places with three kids under five, just for the amusing array of pitying looks we get. Cheap thrills, huh?
Blaaaaaaaaaaarghh
Puggle threw up three times yesterday. Touch wood she is ok today because I am callously planning to stick her in the nursery and cross my fingers. I have an intriguing meeting today at work. After having my job axed by Pork Council, I have been offered a temporary job looking after a travelling exhibition. In this meeting I am hoping they will tell me what I have to do before the job starts next week. The meeting is at 4pm. Place your bets now on Pug throwing up at precisely 3.45.
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1 comment:
What a super little pair of brats you have! Where can I get some?
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