Of course, you can't call it the Valentine's Disco in case a rival minor deity or historical character that didn't get their own special day or niche religion or whatever it is takes offence, or perhaps they're trying to remove the amatory pressures, expectations or threat of growing up from those who are still too young.
In the bit between discos I swept up all the detritus with 2 giant brooms and deposited my mess into Lucy's waiting dustpan.
During the senior noisefest I did square-dancing to Cotton Eye Jo with Okely-Dokely until he realized what we were doing and ran away, and we played tag instead. Crunchygirl vomited in the playground and we brought home 78 unused cheese sandwiches, gosh there'll be some fat ducklings this springtime. At home Jof and I had tired feet.
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