Frickin hell. As if things weren't hard enough in the mornings but today whilst trying to wrestle two kids out of the house and a dog in my lovely moose decided to hop onto my head. Seriously, I saw stars. Also saw blood, ended up in a neighbours saying 'please Paul, tell me how bad it is, is it that bad, will I need stitches, jesus Paul say something??????????' The reason he wasn't saying anything was because he was looking at this scratch that was barely leaking blood. Pah, felt like loads of blood to me. Many, many hours later it still hurts. Frickin moose. I'd find him a new home but I've already drilled into the wall for him. That means leaving two holes in full sight of everyone or . . . who knows. Who cares??
Met Arthur's soon to be new teacher today. She's lovely. Was terrible. All these first time mums and I had no real interest in speaking to any of them. Am I a terrible person or is it what happens when you have a third child? Your head is too full of the previous two boys worth of mothers? Or something?
Right, West Wing for me. Read three of my books and am completely smitted with the one by something Williams. SHall look it up. It's one of the best pieces of writing I've come across in years.
Back to the West Wing and the ironing.
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