Nanny McWee

Good old Nanny McPhee. Or Nanny McWee as I like to call her. The kids tell me to stop being rude, but I can't help it, anything that ends in a double 'e' ought to be replaced with wee; it should be the LAW (perhaps this is why I never did anything with my Law degree?).
All of them are now watching Nanny McWee, which has given me time to sort out exhorbitant (no idea why the spell check says that's wrong...exorbitant? hmmm?) car insurance (more than the price of the car) and attempt to sort out road tax. I couldn't do the road tax thing because apparently the car, which  I'm buying from my mum, doesn't exist. Do you think my mum has fleeced me, the old scoundrel, and made me cough up for a fenced motor? Perhaps she's going all criminal in her dotage? Or maybe I'm doing something wrong because I can't actually focus on the screen properly?
So, today hasn't been totally unproductive. I have also done the scary meat shop, and the flour-and-cheese shop (but not the trout-and-strawberry-and-stationary shop - no need for fish or biros today, thanks) and got myself a new forces railcard, and pretended to be a teacher whilst the kids did their holiday workbooks (I know, it's a bit tiger mum, but they will be off school for two months and if I'm not careful they will forget everything, the bunch of goldfish-brains), took them to a bookshop/cafe for lunch with their friend (in order to buy reading books for hols - I know, I am turning tiger mum; I'll be enrolling them all in violin lessons next...). Now they are all watching a DVD (hah! not so much tiger mum now!), and I'm wishing the blooming room would stop swaying. Every time I go on a plane nowadays I suffer days of 'vertigo' (I don't mean that I get scared of heights, just that every time I move everything goes all swimmy) afterwards. It's like being drunk, but without the good bits.
Right, I'm off for a lie down now whilst Nanny McWee is still doing her stuff, and hopefully everything will stop moving. I'm going to attempt to read some more of 'A Prayer for Owen Meany', which has taken me two years to begin, and at the rate I'm reading, may well take a further two years to finish (the writing is teeny-tiny and the book is very thick). It's good though.
Take care xx