Late bulletin blog post alert.
We won the pub quiz this evening. Whoop!
We didn’t win the jackpot. If you win you pick from three envelopes: jackpot, cash bonus or booby prize. We excel at picking the booby prize.
I am surprised at how little I mind this. I love the winning part best. It is so exciting. Properly exciting, and particularly this evening as we won by a good margin, so we seemed really, really clever.
Also, the booby prize is usually chocolate, and I’m never averse to getting an enormously swollen head, and an enormously swollen belly. It’s all good as far as I’m concerned.
It turns out that our key strengths are literature, the music of 1994 and recognising pictures of classic games from our childhoods. It is nothing if not eclectic. We are less well versed on geography, and not too hot on food and drink. I always think we will be killer at food and drink, but there are always curve balls.
This week we were let down by our inability to know which months you were not allowed to eat shellfish. We were very sure, until we were wrong. I wonder if we were mixing up our facts with the months when you’re not supposed to shoot pheasants, or something. Perhaps its the months you’re not allowed to shoot prawns. It’s all rather tricky.
In other news today, Oscar and I got caught in a particularly vicious hail storm on the way home from school. Oscar reminded me very strongly of Chicken Licken: ‘The sky is falling in! The sky is falling in!’
Frank Cottrell-Boyce, one of my favourite authors, favourited two of my tweets today and retweeted one. It is as close as I will ever come to kissing the hem of his gown. I can die happy.
I went treasure hunting with my dad today. I came home with a vintage Sixties dress, a Thirties green vase that everyone hates except me, and which I am convinced is worth millions (I always tell myself this, particularly about the really ugly things I fall in love with) and two Emma Bridgewater baby mugs for under a tenner. Quite a haul.
Jason treated us to a Chinese takeaway this evening after my dinner plans went disastrously wrong. I love him.