Saucepan Lids and The Smoke

A Friday night out in the Smoke with Christine, Chris and, all too briefly, Dogs is always an attractive prospect and certainly the prospect greeting Christine in the curry house towards the end of the night as both her husband and her MC demonstrated the verbal skills to be expected of men who decided four shots of Turkish Delight flavoured vodka in 5 minutes was a treat for her.

Sadly our subject managed not to fall asleep on the train back to the Mother's and so not very bright and certainly not very breezy on Saturday morning he was in a fine state to visit the horde of nippers that is his sister's place.

Taking them swimming did not really assist the raging headache if one was honest.

Barely, i.e. not at all, recovered Gay George (Not Actually Gay) picked him up in his shiny new car (a White 911 - not at all chavvy, oh no) so the two of them could plan their next but one skiing trip before a night out at a comedy club in Balham. Some truely horrid news, far too serious and sad to grace the pages of this publication, rather took the edge off the night and despite the best efforts of the comedians a relatively early night was had.

Which considering the prospect from his bedroom the next morning was probably a wise move as no doubt the entire country ground to a halt under millimetre thin blanket of snow.

Another day with the horde of saucepan lids with the usual assortment of piggy-back rides, tears from being thrown upside down and utter pandemonium in a toystore cheered him up no end though. To be fair however he didn't manage to get a good laugh in until his sister managed to upset all her crockery and it all fee, smashed, to the floor.

Clearly inspired by this scene of domestic disaster his Mother decided to allow Phoebe (currently in her most truculent phase) drink her coffee ...the horrors of a wild child full of caffeine are too horrible to trouble our gentle readers with.