So far

Rose said the f word once this morning but not at my parents’ house. Perhaps it is fading from her memory. Or maybe she is storing it up for a special occasion, like the nursery’s Ofsted inspection or when the health visitor comes round.

Now trying to prepare for our holiday. The big thing on my mind is sorting out the cold water tank which keeps overflowing into the garden, as avoiding coming home to a flooded house is a top priority.

The football has only been on for 2 days and already it’s getting totally on my melon. I might get hold of one of those really annoying plastic trumpet things and blow it very loudly when people at work start droning on about the World Cup.


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