Quickie

This will have to be quick because I have a mountain of ironing as big as big as, well, a mountain (that is, if you were a small pink plastic pony, it would be a mountain. Obviously it is not really as big as a mountain as that would be silly).

With Hubby away, I was worried that the weekend would be scarily endless (as endless as a mountain of ironing would look to a small pink plastic pony, perhaps) but it was ok. Well, I've got through it at least. And I haven't resorted to shouting or gin to do so, so I am feeling pretty good.

On Saturday, to perk up a cold grey morning and add a bit of excitement to buying wellies and picking up the dry cleaning, I promised the kids to snack time at the new Starbucks. So we traipsed in, trailing gloves on bits of elastic and used tissues. Five minutes and ten pounds later, we had our mid-morning drinks in front of us. Yes, ten pounds. And I only had a coffee. Still, I take some comfort in the fact that a large proportion of the exhorbitant profits on our 'snack time' will have to be spent on specialised cleaning to rid their armchairs of smoothie, marshmallow, chocolate and snot. (I did my best, but there is only so much a wet wipe can do).