You'll be glad to hear that my witter will be brief this evening as I am pooped after rising like a harrier jump jet this morning. We'd overslept and the household was a blur of half dressed, gonk haired bodies as we all rushed about vying for fleeting tenancy of the sole bathroom in the house.
Add to the mix a visit from a washing machine repair man, The Mad Mother and her penchant for reading long letters down the phone and late night Christmas shopping over icy cobbles, wearing the wrong boots.
Sometimes bed is the best place to be.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment