SchittStorm

As is traditional for a Sunday, I arose at 9-ish and was not in a hurry to do anything.
Because Jof was actually here we watched dogs-that-are-scared-of-cats and cats-falling-down videos on YouTube which are always a good laugh, and we extracted permission to get a cat once we have a big house in the country.
The only real appointment today was Johnny's 9th birthday party (9???) at Goals on the Eastern Road. Because I knew I would get hot and sweaty, I had a shower before going. This is logical to me: I am tough on causality and the causes of causality. Ben offered to take me so Jof dropped me off at his place just as Ben was round at ours trying to pick me up. There were arguments and recriminations but I expect it was my fault, probably best to make that my fault-default settings, for I am inherently faulty, and malty and salty also, but not Balti because I don't like curry yet.
At Goles we played a couple of matches and I was put in goal because I'm not very good and I let in the winner. Ben gets the prize for most injuries and I didn't wear my shirt and I got 2 balloons at the end and 2 packets of Match Attax! cards with both Norwich goalkeepers.
At the end you get a prize handout ceremony where you get things like best goal, fairest player and stuff, then a million Canada Geese flew over (they have a protected field stopover site right next door to Goles on their migration route) and we all said look out, they will poo upon our exposed heads and we all ran screaming into the goal which is of flimsy netting so wouldn't have protected us anyway.
Grandad calls them Scheithawks, sounds Germanic to me, not Canadian. Totally Teutonic, Dude. Jof bought me a Lego Movie Mini-figure: I got the "Where are my pants?" guy.