1. My (mental) pile of mending is teetering and I am bring driven crazy by missing buttons and broken hangers. It has got so large that I have become afraid to start on it. Once Nick and Alec are down for their afternoon naps I gather up a couple of the most urgent pieces, put the TV on and get to work.
2. I tell Nick that I don't feel up to cooking an omelette for supper. I've spent all my energy on lunch, and I'm never very successful at them anyway. I feel bad about this, because he particularly requested it when I was doing the meal plan, and I've bought in loads of eggs.
"I might give it a go," he says. "I used to be quite good at omelettes. But you'll have to prompt me."
He wakes me at 5.30pm and by the time I get downstairs it's too late for prompting. The omelette is tasty and tender -- he's raided the fridge for a piece of old Manchego cheese, cold roast pork from lunch and a tomato.
I will never cook an omelette myself again.
3. Alec has made himself a nest out of pillows. He puts one up over his head as a roof and says it's a carriage. "Where are you going, Alec?"
"Going to London to see Larlie and some boo-bahs."
Godmother Charlie is in for a treat then, an afternoon looking at diesel trains.
3. Alec has made himself a nest out of pillows. He puts one up over his head as a roof and says it's a carriage. "Where are you going, Alec?"
"Going to London to see Larlie and some boo-bahs."
Godmother Charlie is in for a treat then, an afternoon looking at diesel trains.
