Hooray for the Hols

Last day of term and a brief respite from the rain. We were supposed to go down to the park, even for 10 minutes of climbing and swinging, but we forgot, as usual, he's old (43 tomorrow). I ate sweeties, he cooked beef wotsisface for the PuddleParty.
Today was his work lunch at a Chinese restaurant (Beijing Palace in Nutbourne City Limits) that used to be a Little Chef. He brought me home a pair of chopsticks (just right for junior-level drumsticks) and a fortune cookie "Fortune cookies will keep you in good shape" what - slim and handsome? So I could eat 800, but for the fact that I don't like them. Shame, otherwise I'd be in even better shape.

However, children, we know a song about that, don't we? During lunch, something terrible happened with my packed lunch, prepared diligently by my manservant. I put up my hand, and said "Waiter, waiter, there's something in my soup", which was a surprise as I was eating scotch egg. It turned out to be my second lost tooth (♫ ♪ ♪ ♪, another one gums the dust) for which I got an instant sticker and an envelope to bring it home in. Are my looks going at last? Is this the beginning of the slippery slope towards obscurity, first the spark plug adverts, then opening Kebab shops in Gateshead, then selling autographs on street corners to support my Haribo habit?
Anyway, swimming was great as there were only 3 of us so we played water polo and messed about on rafts. Even swimming has stopped for Xmas (although YMCA swimming day is the 4th January, so I'll get an extra).