On Friday - yesterday - amongst other things, like getting up at the crack of Dawn to give N a lift into work for her first early, wandering around in a fatigue-induced stupor, falling asleep in front of Parky whilst interviewing Patrick Stewart, making baked beans on toast, eating Cheerios with Squeaky, doing the washing, to name but a few.... I took my charming daughter to the library for Friday story telling. She made a little friend of around her own age whose name was Owen or Lachlan or Bruce or something, but that is by the by. I also borrowed a book - my first book borrowing in Australia. "Fishy Wishes" it is called and it is by Tom Holt. It's a very odd book, but that is also by the by.
What is decidedly not by the by, and which shows a marked lack of respect for literature, freedom of speech probably, and I'm sure some of my ancestors, though I don't know which, would be turning in the their graves, is the fact that this morning Eloise - potentially accidentally, though that might just be a clever ruse, poured coffee all over it.
To add insult to injury we caught her later on attempting to tear a page from it.
Some serious inculcation is in order.
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