I have had to work hard and late this week at school, a mix of open evenings and report writing amongst many other jobs on my 'to do' list. And I don't normally make lists.
Last night I received yet another tearful phone call from Kitty. Daisy had eaten her dinner, as well as her own! The details are worthy of a Shakespearean farce but I am too drained to write (after an hour of counselling a student who has been beaten and almost disowned by her mother this week)
Whilst walking home to mediate my two princesses, I started to hum a tune from my past, I wish I could embed this for you but I can't, but if you are as old as I and want a blast from the past, theme tunes do not come better than this
If that does not raise a twitch of a smile then surely this extract from a piece Woody Allen wrote for the Guardian on Monday will.
"Received offer to write and direct film in Barcelona. Must be cautious. Spain is sunny, and I freckle. Money not great either, but agent did manage to get me a 10th of 1% of anything the picture does over $400m after break-even. Have no idea for Barcelona - unless the story of the two Hackensack Jews who start a mail-order embalming firm could be switched".
Read the rest here
Oh lucky me, the girls are at home this weekend, Kitty wants entertaining so I have suggested that she come with me and Leyla of course, to the Saatchi Gallery, perhaps I can sneak off and pretend they are live exhibits, robots out of control. A can of Coca Cola should do it.
Wish me luck