It's all going wrong

We're invisible

After school today Erin came round to play while Estate agent #2 was visiting her house. We drew, played lego, chased Bud who was easy to corner as he was doing the washing up, practised writing, drew on the stickers Bud had brought back from work and generally had a really good time.

Then, following the time-honoured pattern of previous playdates, I turned like a London Cab on the proverbial 1953 sixpence for no discernible reason and suddenly became the grizzlemonster from hell. I hid under the duvet, lashed out at allcomers and told everyone to go away.

The first instalment of howling lasted a mere 20 minutes until I was tempted back to the writing desk with the promise of that chair that Erin was sitting on, that pen she was using, and that colour sticker that she particularly favoured. Then it was a medium-quality ceasefire like on the Korean peninsula until it all went tits up again when we argued over which program to watch. So I rimbled and grizzled and moaned all the way to her house and back. Bud thinks we're too alike personality-wise, and neither of us back down, then he pulls a face (easy for him) and Erin laughs which I then object to.....slippery slope with no return. Oh dear.