It’s Friday lunchtime, which leaves us with a gaping black dilemma almost existential in its dark, forbidding, fundamental nature: what to do with the girls for the next two and a half days?
That’s almost 60 hours to fill with entertainment, education and excitement. We’ve already been swimming down the road in Sidcup (which I notice has been in the news again), so that’s one particular favourite crossed off the list.
Ideally I’d like the girls to sit quietly and read downstairs while I play some more Left 4 Dead, but the chances of that happening are quite staggeringly unlikely. Millie might well do it for 20 minutes or so, but the Bubbah…no, I think we’d be asking a bit much of her. Her current reading age is that of a rabid dog, in that she eats books rather than reads them.
