Baby-sitting first-born last night. I always enjoy this; first we plugged through the maths homework, then drew pictures ("Dad, why do you always draw rockets?" "Beause I LIKE rockets") and finally bed-time stories. Happy days.
I then prowled the house, counting the changes. I tell you this, she didn't waste any time in adding The Boyfriend's stuff to the general clutter.
I wrote the word "Yuck" in the thick layer of grease that had built up on the oven and settled down to read a book.
I was also pleased to note, before they left, that the Ex is sporting a substantial cold-sore. Bitter? Moi?
