Back to reality - again

0030-0430. Jof visits toilet 3 times in a gesture of solidarnosc with my double-ended tummybug. He stayed awake all night with a lead-lined nearly-on-the-verge-of-joining-her tummy. The boys had an extremely light final breakfast (and purloined many small jams) while Jof hid in a dark room hoping it would all go away.

Then we exchanged all our yellow tickets (including 2 kind donations from random passers-by) for 2 identical fragile plastic tractors (best of Chinese manufacturing) and a bag of Toy Story marbles.

This pretty well did it for us so after a swift couple on the carousel while Jof made her peace with the toilet we escaped back to the concrete reality of Portsmouth to discover the world has gone mad in my absence, burning towns and going shopping at midnight with half-bricks. I shall have to re-exert control.

What could possibly better the holiday I've just had? Only a Pops, who's been away on her own holiday up north. She came round to save me from my 4th consecutive hour of TV so we played, visited swingpark (I've missed 2 Wednesday parks so far) but this was cut short by exposure to locally occurring dogpoo. It turned out she'd been looking after our house while we were away and with Erin's help had checked in all our cupboards saying it wasn't the same without me. She's right. It's good to be back with the girlies that adore me.