Waney Weedy Weeky

So the nice estate agent with the comedy northern accent phoned up and said the seller has accepted your offer on the house with the missing lightbulb in Bed 3. So we said 'I think at this stage in our relationship we should be free to see other properties, see how it goes'.
But the news of the day is about the Year 4 play. Ages ago I was the Troll in the 3 Goats play, the baddie is always the best part but my teacher didn't let me ham it up with all those shenanigans you get before a professional wrestling bout. I have also played the gold Wise Man in the Nativity, and stood there dripping with over £800 worth of real gold necklaces etc.
But this time I am - 'Trainer/Narrator' in the epic folk tale "Going for Gold". I haven't got the script yet but I am told I've got 40-something lines, way the biggest part, perhaps the casting director teacher has noted my ability to talk more than anyone else.
To much acclaim, I did 'Show'n'Tell' on my collection of copper pencil sharpeners, as you do.
For my application form for a class trip to an art gallery next month, it says will the child have to take his asthma inhaler. I put that I don't inhale, although I am aware this defence hasn't always worked in the past.
Took Ben home for chocolate and we made a base and a Lego train track and lots of noise for a couple of hours and as soon as Jof got home we drove to yet another house where I strode airily and said how long the corridor was.
This one was quite nice in that the kitchen was good but there was a bathroom in it and also a small cat which slyly inveigled its way in by purring at Jof, who cannot resist. But the house was very narrow and awfully close to the wilderness and you just can't have a bathroom in your kitchen any more, your meat and 2 veg might get mixed up at suppertime. So we said sorry to the estate agent and argued about how many goats and cats and pigs we'll have when we finally buy the big house in the country.