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Monday, 14 May 2012
I've got little pink cheeks from all that sun yesterday at the seaside, I really must wear pants next time.
The rain has had a weekend off so returned to work today, just like everyone else.
I got a new reading book (Level Turquoise!) and even though I was watching TV, he sat me on the work surface and made me read it while he was doing tomorrows' lunches. Book review
"Ice cream dream" is a heartwarming tale in a colourful booklet for those of limited literacy skills in which a crusty old sailor man surreptitiously inserts, by power of suggestion, the belief that there may be free ice cream available at the other end of town into the mind of a gullible young lemming. This chosen lemming proceeds to trumpet this concept to all his lemming friends in a orgy of religious fervour. Meanwhile Bud voiced disbelief and maintained throughout that nothing in this life is for free. Bit by bit we see the brave lemming band travelling through the town by many modes of transport, recruiting more and more members to the hungry flock. And yea verily, by the time we got to Woodstock we were half a million strong er, no, that was another life. By the time the plucky yet parched pilgrims reach the top of the cliff, they discover that the old sailor man has indeed been trolling them and there is no ice cream. Such is the depth of their despair they throw themselves as one to their doom off the handily placed clifftop and go blop blop blop into the waters of eternity many leagues below.
This is exactly the sort of thing my malleable young mind requires for balanced development: I may nip back tomorrow and get the one about witches and satanic rituals. Plus, Dude, it totally perpetuates the myth about suicidal tendencies in migrating Scandinavian rodents.
In Beavers we learnt about the importance of cleaning hands and teeth. 3 of our band were chosen to have the special dye which stains dirty teeth purple and then Round Archie shouted "Vampire" and we all ran around screaming. On the way back through the park I noticed an unattended swinging basket so I orbited for a while singing Auld Lang Syne, as you do. I then requested 1 scooter-circuit of swingpark only and proceeded to circumnavigate the entire park, disappearing from view at least twice. Thus is the freedom of being 6.
Last thing at night Jof and I played Compare-the-tractors.com (effectively Top Trumps with tractors) and I won, for I had the Lamborghini that could do 35mph, and some fat BGR that was nearly 40 tons.