Did you know that breaking a pinkie promise makes you fat and bad? Nope? It was news to me, too, but when Twin 1 promised me that she'd let me wash her hair tomorrow she said - as she thrust out her little finger - that breaking a pinkie promise makes you fat and bad. So I shook her little finger with mine, confident that the hairwash was guaranteed because Twin 1 definitely doesn't want to become 'fat and bad'. I think she might be onto something. Maybe we should ask politicians to do pinkie promises instead of writing election manifestos (although obviously the whole pinkie promise thing wouldn't work on someone who is already fat and bad, so might not be effective on all politicians).
I'm in a really good mood because it feels like my lurgy is finally lifting. I've still got a bit of a sore throat, but it's nothing compared to the pit of viral despair I've been wallowing in for the last few days. I even had the energy to clean the downstairs bathroom this evening, and let me tell you, never has wielding a toilet brush whilst singing along to the Darkness ('I believe in a fing called love') felt so good.
Hubby's gone back to ye olde London town, kids are back at school tomorrow, and I'm itching to get on with the next chapter, having had lots of inspiration for my posh character after listening to some of the audio at the Imperial War Museum in the hols. I am going to finish this book and get it published this year, and that's a pinkie promise ;)