good news/bad news

I've managed to get the mouthguard in before nine pm, and I'm happy. This may sound trivial, but the bleach has to stay on for two hours and our generator gets turned off at eleven, meaning all the lights go out. Have you ever tried extricating a mouthguard full of bleach in the dark?
I'm also happy because I've had three positive results from the three press releases I sent out for a local charity. Soldier magazine, the AFF magazine and the Belfast Telegraph have all promised to cover the story of the ex-soldier who rescues Nepali children from being sold as slaves into Indian circuses. Amazingly, he has managed to eradicate the practice of 'circus slaves' within just ten years, by rescuing the girls and prosecuting the traffickers and circus owners (the website is www.ebtrust.org.uk if you are interested). So that's good news.
The other bit of good news is that I have just ordered myself some lush custom-designed handmade jewellery for my birthday present from Hubby (he will find this out when he returns from the UK on Saturday - or sooner, if he happens upon this). It will be very lovely and classy and in-keeping for someone who is the wrong side of thirty five (I do feel quite matronly these days, especially when I hear about youngsters and their love lives: there is a very nice postie on camp who has a super-dooper girlfriend and I can't wait for them to get married about it - I find myself clucking about it like a mother hen). Actually I'm very much the wrong side of thirty five. I should probably be asking for Botox for my birthday, but I'm not sure where you can have it done here. There is a sign on a back alley up the road offering plastic surgery, but I'm not sure that's to be trusted.
The bad news is that Twin 2 did three poos in her pants today and I'm not convinced my fat-busting shoes are having any effect whatsoever. But let's not dwell on that.
Tomorrow Son is having a sleepover at his friend Toby's (Son calls him 'Tobes', but I'm not allowed to do that as it makes him embarrassed - when did my six-year-old turn into such a teenager?) as they are going to watch the school play together. I've declined to take Twins as the performance doesn't finish until eight, which is way too far past bedtime, and would induce tears, tantrums and hallucinations, not necessarily in that order. I have promised to take them out for a strawberry soda and some cookies instead.
Then on Saturday Hubby arrives home, closely followed by some house guests a couple of hours later. Thank goodness Sanu and Meena are both back at work, otherwise it would all be a bit scary.
Vasu, the driver, is still looking glum and truculent about the fact that he actually has to drive a couple of times a day in order to get paid. Wish I could employ a female driver. I know it's sexist, but I just think there would be less asking for pay rises and time off and more help carrying the shopping in from the car. Maybe I'm expecting too much from a twenty-two year old student?
Anyway, should go and do something useful (lunch boxes and water bottles).
Cheerio x