Drinking from the furry cup

So the parents have a glass of water by the bedside for nocturnal dry throat issues, particularly on beer nights. This is fair enough. Over years, they have settled on those old pint glasses with the really thick glass bottoms, because they are stable and more difficult to knock over if you miss the handle in the middle of the night. For years now, I've had one of those baby beakers by the bed for the same reason: they have the lid and retractable mouthpiece so again, are less easy to spill. But I've chewed it and now it's all hairy. I shall stop drinking from the furry cup and get myself a half-pint, maybe one from a beer festival.

Anyway, after school, Erin and I went to see the house that we want to buy. It's quite large, and many builders are interested in it so I'm sure they'll gazump us. But you can but try. We saw BensMum driving home and I helped he realise whe the trafic lights had turned green.

Following our difficulties in getting to swimming on time, we left super-early and met no traffic at all. Rather than get there 40 minutes early, we visited Anchorage Park swingpark which was empty and waterlogged. This did not stop us swinging, zip-lining and doing chinups. As the last vestiges of solar radiation left us, we headed off to the pool where we met Poppy C and her mum, who says I'm cute. I'm well in there.....
Bedtime. Or so you would think. I'd already sadly missed Beer'O'Clock with the PuddlePolice. But, after showertime, I re-established my Power of Personality by starting a Calisthenic Competition. In my newly denuded bedroom, we had a Gymnastic groove-along with pikes, straddlejumps and arabesques. Jof was surprisingly good as she had gymmed until circa 13, Bud was strong in the push-up area but was crap at balancing, and in the end we made full use of the cleared bedroom to do some gratifying yet grotesque family gymnastics.
Aussi, bonjour mes amis de la belle France.