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I'm not in the right frame of mind.

I made my boy cry ealier in the evening. I was trying to guide, be helpful, supportive. Suggested he did something to improve a piece of work that was untidy. His response "I'd prefer it if I didn't have to spend my evening working, if you don't mind". My response was a quiet one - I just told him to go away. Quietly. No shouting. I was dumbfounded at an unexpectedly dispassionate and lazy response to something that would have taken ten minutes. Apparently, my quiet response made him quickly realise my disappointment, hence the tears.
We have made up since.

I'm knackered and in pain.

James looked like he was about to do a scene from the exorcist just before bed. The colour drained from his face and he went all clammy. Then the moment passed without incident.

It's been a weird "non-evening".
Hence, cats.
No inspiration.
Sorry.

I think it's the anticipation of Thursday. My least favourite day of my new school week. Can't be helped. Just how it's fallen.

Soon be weekend.

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