How to get over a Huff

I had a lovely morning. There I was, almost wearing a dressing gown, having been fed marmite on toast when he said better get dressed, Sydney will be round in a minute to go to acting with you. That's when I got the Huff. So I walked as slowly as possible and refused to do my teeth and jumped around in my room naked until she arrived.

She had been in her own, independent Huff earlier as well, but as soon as we were together once more, the Huffs evaporated and were blown away and lost forever in the gales of laughter. We drove to the theatre through some very slow football traffic. Plymouth, our opponents, represent another heavily fortified naval port so naturally we hate each other and hordes of extra Police were drafted in to keep the baying mobs apart. As we drove, we had to drive onto the pavement for 3 angry Police cars, 2 angry Police vans, and 2 angry plain-clothes cars all with woo-woos and flashing lights. In fact, it would have been easier to drive the whole way on the pavement, or issue the cops with cop copters. Syd wants to be a Police horse when she grows up. Our jokes and conversations are getting much ruder although we have an almost complete lack of knowledge so our innuendoes are more like innuendon'ts.

Anyway, we laughed our way through acting and we have some lines to learn for next week. Then because of why not, we totally abducted her again and got lunchables at the Co-Op and watched Night at the Museum 7 and then Minecrafted together in blissful stereo until her mum broke it up 5 hours later, I guess it had to happen. Jof was doing a pub quiz with her work-friends so we drove her to Fareham although she couldn't find the right boots or the right jacket or hand cream or glasses or and I just think it's not worth it being an adult. Long may Syd and I be innocent together.

Supper DVD was 'Starship Troopers' because of all the blood and guts, hurrah.