In other news:
Tallulah’s joint leaving primary school party with her friend Ashton went very well on Friday night. Nicki and I organised it, and we hosted it at Nicki’s house. It’s fair to say that we were both on our knees by ten o’clock when the last guests left with their respective parents, but the kids were still going strong. Tallulah had to be dragged in from the trampoline to go home. A resounding success.
And luckily they were all too young to get drunk and throw up in the flower beds.
Or the bed, beds.
Also, it seems that the modern children prefer fizzy Haribo to gummy bears. We set out tubs of assorted sweets, and they carefully picked through them and left us all the gummy bears. This was very interesting. It is clearly the Haribo equivalent of the squashed dried peas that my hamster always refused to eat in the hamster mix.
Oscar’s first sleep over went brilliantly, although, as predicted it sounds like very little sleeping actually took place. This is the case with all sleep overs, which are entirely wrongly named in my opinion. I should start a campaign to get them called Wake Overs.
Both Oscar and Tallulah have been hideous all day today. It is a combination of partying too hard, going to bed too late and the trauma of their last week at school. Both of them have cried themselves to sleep this evening. This does not bode well for the week ahead.
Oscar and Tallulah brought their school reports home on Friday. Both glowing. We have decided, upon reflection, that we will keep them both for another year. Although this is provisional on them surviving the next week without trying to stab each other.
Tallulah’s birthday party on Saturday went well, despite several disasters beforehand. The first of which was me waking with a migraine at ten to five on Saturday morning. I was beginning to feel slightly better by lunch time, and had just decided to launch into making the cake when Jason, who was laying cable through the landing floor into the office, stuck a nail through a water pipe and made a small fountain. No water meant no ability to bake.
Our friend Rob saved the day with his super amazing plumbing skills, and we were able to get the party started, as the great chanteuse Pink would say.
Many presents were opened. Many nail varnishes were obtained by the girl who wants to become a professional nail artist for when the singing business is a bit off the boil. The whole house reeks of nail varnish remover, which has not done my head any favours.
I had a knitting crisis today. I was just coming to the end of a very successful piece of stocking stitch, my first, and was almost ready to cast off, when the cat darted in with something large and flappy in her mouth.
We thought it was a bird, and in dashing forwards to extricate it from her mouth I pulled some stitches off the end of my needle and unravelled things quite horribly because my foot was caught in the wool, which was also beginning to wrap round the chair leg.
I could not stop to investigate because I needed to save the day.
It turned out to be a dragon fly.
I spent forty minutes trying to undo what I had done to no discernible effect, so tomorrow will see me hoving off to the wool shop to see if they can show me how to fix the mess. If that doesn’t work, one of my friends has kindly offered to help me.
I need all the help I can get.
So does the cat, who is probably now crying herself to sleep too.