Mr. Waffle is giving me a break this morning. He got up with the Princess, dressed her, fed her, changed the boys, dressed them, put on their coats, put on the Princess’s coat, put the boys into their car seats, stacked them in the lift, persuaded the Princess into the lift and headed off. I shut the door but moments later heard a plaintive bleat from downstairs. From the stairwell Mr. Waffle’s voice echoed “Could you bring the Princess’s shoes downstairs?”
enjoy your break and your weekend – we have sun here. Hurray.
Yes, shoes would be nice.
Some friends of ours were flying from Nairobi to London in December. December is the hottest time of year in Kenya and not quite as snuggly in good old Blighty… the plane started to descend and 8 hours worth of colouring books, snacks, dollies etc were being gathered up for the dash to immigration…
– Louisa, put your shoes on darling. We’ll be landing soon.
.
.
.
– What do you mean you didn’t bring any?
H, no sun here, alas. Quite br. Norah, superb. Where is your baby?
It’s staging a sit-in. It will not be moved. Apparently.