Granny Blanket

A day of three getting ups. First from the sofa* at 4am to make sure Mr B's alarm had worked. Second from bed at 6am to make sure TallGirl's alarm had worked (she is a morning person, dunno where she gets that from). Third from bed again at 7am to cook pasta and muffins (separately) for CarbBoy's packed lunch. Though I might as well not have bothered with the pasta since he opened it with so much panache on his school trip that it exploded all over the floor and had to be thrown away.

Off to school then to sort the cheques out in a blissfully quiet school office (everyone was on the trip to the forest to look at insects). Invoices done, world set to rights and home in time for lunch.

Bad point of the evening: finding out that Mr B has to work next week. Good point of the evening: a chat with my godson on his birthday, just before he headed out to the pub. He's ten. I blame the parents.

Now it must be time for the third going to bed of the day...

* Snoring inspired. I can't shout at him when he has to get up that early, and it was beyond the power of earplugs,