The Invasion of the Builders

Slept fitfully, dreaming of phalanxes of zombie builders stomping around with drilling arms outstretched, crushing all my Lego under their big work boots, and moaning "Briiiicks.....Briiiicks...."

There's really only one way to assuage the cement-thirsty desires of these rampaging creatures, so we spent £1000 online on bathroom fittings, bought job lots of teabags, coffee and sugar, and returned to big B+Q to buy kitchen and bathroom things like spice racks and toothbrush holders, neither of which were in stock. And the floor tiles that Jof wanted were non-waterproof. But we did get wall tiles and taps and a shelf and a cabinet and some hooks and rails and had lots of fun paying another £300. The nice builderman helped us unload the tiles. Furthermore, it turns out that we sold MungleInferno™ death-chillies to him last year because his sister works next to Bud, how come some people say the world is a big place and other people say it's a small world. Perhaps it's quantum.
Incidentally, there was a big cat poo in the playground today and I contrived to sit in it: the teacher washed my trousers a bit and I spent the rest of the day in my PE shorts.

Then Ben arrived and we toured the latest domestic destruction: the picture is not available as the camera has developed schizophrenia due to helpful

automatic software upgrades, like Windows 8. Once we'd Lego Heroed, we scooted to Beavers where we made kites and I showed off my brass compass. I got no time to play afterwards as they had gone back to big B+Q while I was Beavering, a mere £200 this time but at least we'll have matching dressing gown nobs. We unloaded the car and then it was back to wallpaper stripping, a cheaper hobby at least.