Life Update: Plastic Chairs and Potty Training
Life update time – I know how keenly you all look forward to my inane twaddle about domestic affairs. I feel as though this is almost a bonus ball, too, because last week you had a rant about pumpkins which was a life update in itself. Or at least an update into my (unhinged") state of mind!
Angelica is four and four months (ish) and today, on this very day, Ted is precisely two years and nine months. I am three weeks shy of thirty nine. The earth is approximately 4.543 billion years old. And now that we have established everyone’s ages, shall we get down to the fun bits"
I went to parents’ evening the other week and sat in the smallest chair I’ve possibly ever squeezed myself into. As an adult. (Apart from a Ryanair flight to somewhere called Paris Beauvais Tille, back in about 2002. That aeroplane seat was probably tinier. Also: Paris Beauvais Tille turned out to be nowhere near Paris. It would be like calling an airport “London Peterborough”, or “London Stansted”. Oh.) I wondered whether anyone at parents’ evening had ever broken one of these tiny plastic chairs because – not to cause controversy – I’m not even particularly heavy yet still the chair legs were wobbling about precariously. Things must get kind of dicey. I wonder if they have a spy camera on the wall ready to catch the moment that a chair breaks so that they can send the video to You’ve Been Framed.
Anyway, I went to ...
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