What a mission this week was ...
- Sweeney's preschool was flooded out and stayed closed for three days;
- Sweeney's grandad spent three nights in hospital with severe bellyache;
- Sweeney popped into work with me for 11.4 minutes and provided us all with visual confirmation of what Running Rampant actually means. Also Gleeful Shrieking and Telling Your Mother's Boss Secret Things About Her;
- Consequently, the next day, Sweeney had a heap of quality-face-time with Joe and Harper;
- We said to goodbye to John from No.20. The quality of street gossip is never going to recover;
- Paths were swept and hosed;
- Frank from No.21 popped over for a visit;
- Rubbish was taken to the dump;
- Delicious stroganoff was concocted and snorkelled down with delicious noodles. Take that, you annoying quantity of crisper-dwelling mushrooms and half-cups of wine left over from Sunday night dinners ...;
- My hair kind of did what I wanted it to, most days;
- Which was just as well, because a photo of me ended up in the paper. Turns out that more important than the Important Social Message I was imparting was the fact that I have an actual age, and semi-Vulcan eyebrows;
- Lamb shanks as big as Sweeney's face, along with some awesome cauliflower curry and other stuff that didn't really match but still tasted amaaaaaazing, were served up for dinner with the W-Ds and M-Zs; and
- The sun shone, the birds sang, the wind blew in rather a pleasant way, there was some insanely lovely full moon action ...
Sweeney scored a boogie board at the Dump Shop today, and a Spiderman toy. At that point, I noticed that he was wearing his full Spiderman outfit, and had been all day. Top marks for eyes, Ange.
Harper and Kimberley came for dinner, and, out of nowhere, Sweeney gave Harper custody of Pooh.
Just like that. His favourite, favourite of All the Favourites since he was ten weeks old. We even prop him up with us to let him enjoy us reading Winnie the Pooh at night better. Sweeney uses him as a pillow, half the time. Last night, when we got home at the ungodly hour of 9:45pm, and he was about three feet beyond knackered, the look of relief on his face as I plopped him into bed and he buried his head into Pooh's soft fur was just magic.
*Note that the boys kindly selected Bert for Kimberley to play with, so she could feel all included and stop giving her own child The Rabbit ...