Hooray for Friday, because it's Gardening. Apparently in later life I will see it as a cathartic end to the 5-day drag, and I'll have Friday on my mind. But, Blues classics aside, in Gardening we planted potatoes with an Irish accent and didn't even open my special care package containing 16 plant pots at low low prices and a bag of free highly poisonous seeds with explanatory leaflet and 14-day no-quibble guarantee.
Today I brought home an official school missive about our trip to the zoo. This educational trip is mildly different in that we will be sleeping rough in the giraffe enclosure, or the reptile house, or the Llama cabana or monkey world, I forget. So the municipal legal disclaimer letter is a little bit more comprehensive and actually asks us (we are 11 years old) if we are pregnant, have emotional conditions, or have been sentenced to custodial corrective re-education under the 'Cohaagen For A Better Mars' Directive 2113 for firearms offences. I mean, srsly, how many of us don't score at least 2/3?
But in the end my chesty-cough proved tedious and Jof's damaged wrist proved tedious and that meant Bud had to cook supper so we got a half-baked mixture of everything in the fridge which may be indeed full of vitamins but can't I just have chocolate pasta?
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