Eucalypt remains unsold. Ooops. Looks like we may become a two-eucalypt family. An utterly cash-free, two-eucalypt family.
An ominous throbbing deep in my throat suggests that I am in the early stages of the fancy virus Soccer Boy succumbed to last week - fancy, because it was One With a Name, as opposed to 'cold'/'flu' (no it wasn't the curly-tailed variety, it was fancier than that, trust Soccer Boy not to get the virus that's actually going around, but something nobody else in the area has - except me, apparently.)
Princess took three toys in for News last week. One of her questions was: what are their names? These toys have no names, but, as ever, Princess was ready:
Holds up toy one: Sally
Holds up toy two: Gaga
Holds up toy three: Stupidhead
Everybody laughed, she reported (as did the many members of the Princess Posse who also regaled me with the tale, just in case she hadn't). I muttered things about her language and getting into trouble with the teacher. Oh, no, says Princess, no trouble with the teacher. Apparently she was laughing louder than anyone.
Um, that's it really. Good weekend otherwise, apart from the eucalypt thing. Some writing even.