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I don't want to talk about it

Don't even know what day it is. Day 8?


Major doom.


Will you stop BREATHING SO LOUD.


What?? You get it. I don't know where she left it. Look for it yourself.


Stop hitting your brother in his peanuts!!!!


Why is she crying again?


Can I have some Nutella on toast Mummy? OK. So we're out of Nutella. Here's your Notella on toast honey.


Why is she crying again?


Mummy my bath toys need towels. No they don't. Please don' t use all the face cloths again. Or just ignore me.


Why are you shouting I'm stood right next to you?? Why don't you just go for another jog around the garden?


Mummy is nipping out. Where? To a new local drop in place. For adults. Its called the bins. I'll be back later.


Speaking of bins. I see the green bin collection has been cancelled. Just when people finally have time to do some bloody gardening.


And virtual queuing. A new life triumph! Queuing online at Tesco's at midnight for a delivery slot that won't exist when I get to the front of the queue (I gave up). We'll have to stick with Notella on Noast for the foreseeable then...


Another Day In Paradise

To be fair we did take a road trip to the front garden for a change. That was nice. Killed 7 minutes. But stuff is blooming now so that's lovely isn't it.



We climaxed the day with a car wash crescendo. Winning. At. Life.



So that concludes Moanday.


Quick question... if a tree falls in a forest, will anyone hear me scream?


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© 2018 by Gillian Walsh. 07540 293 993 Gill@gillianwalsh.co.uk. Manchester & Cheshire