Up late, why not. Then they ditched us at Horizones in Havant (place where I broke my arm and venue of at least 2 Puddle birthday parties) while they went to Hobbycraft in search of even more wool and crepe paper and pipe cleaners. Srsly, how much wool do you need?
Anyway, Attack Chase was going swimmingly until he made up for his more cumbersome nature and cheated by going up a slide where it said no entry, go down only. I huffed and puffed and sulked and stamped all the way home and burst into tears at Jof again for the ignominy and unfairness of it all.
Do any of my PuddleFriends feel the same way about life? Is it just turning 7 and the associated turbulent hormonal imbalances, or are the parents changing?
Some hours of Uno later we put Nanna back on the train (at the last minute deciding not to send her to Cardiff) and I got back to Lego until Pops arrived. She brought a birthday present and a touch of the supermodel, then took a plastic sword for her sister's fancy dress costume and me back to her room, for I am an away player and am well in with the mum.
StruwwelPeter continues. In today's title episode, we learn how slovenly and unkempt children, low on the metrosexual register, will be shunned by all who meet them. So all those with hippy-girly locks (Italian footballers included) and unwashed stockings would do well to listen, however brightly coloured your tunic or lipstick.
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