On Friday night we went out as a family to eat steak. We had a really lovely meal but I was stuffed full, TTT, (tummy touching table) and should have walked home, but was wearing silly shoes so we had to take a taxi.
On Saturday we went shopping. Husband bought GIGANTIC trainers for Son. Son is 13 years old and is wearing sized 10 trainers, and we both felt a bit sick. Last time Husband bought trainers for Son he was a child sized 10. Daughter was bought her first something that I shouldn’t discuss here, for sensitivity reasons, and now between the two of them, I feel about 74. Husband bought me my birthday present (a week early) which made me a bit sick with excitement. (I am neither 74 nor 75 on this upcoming birthday!)
On Saturday night we met friends at the Londoner pub for the rugby. Oh my, sick with anticipation, but so as not to offend my Australian readership, I shall be calm and gracious (- but we always get beaten, so it was fab…)
On our way to Sunday lunch, I issued a pronouncement.
‘No more sick children. I want to go to my office this week’.
And that is what I shall do.