We had an interesting discussion about shouting at dinner yesterday. Jason told a story about shouting at a pedestrian (and then realising the green man was on). Rose talked about shouting in circumstances that sounded quite involved and included a growly face to show how she felt when shouting. I mentioned various shoutings at many spots around Sydenham. You name it, I’ve shouted in it. Poor Rose, I have promised to be less shouty. Quite difficult when you are faced with yet another idiot who thinks letting their dog jump up in a three year old’s face is fine because it’s just being friendly.
Sylvia is obsessed with trying to walk! Attempts at crawling usually end in failure when she sticks her bum up in the air so high she does a headstand, then sits down again. But she can pull herself up by her fingertips, using the superpower all babies share of highly sticky skin.
The news is on, not sure how much I can take of phones, Tory chumps or any of the rest of the news which is all famine, serial killer nurses and other Bad Things. Custard pies are ok, I like custard pies.