The Guided Missile

L departs early for work, so I have the task of steadying the ship first thing in the morning. Well, I feed the dogs and do a bit of yelling to the immobile ones upstairs. Daughter seemed alive, well she was coughing manically but not actually up. She'll be spreading those germs at maths revision class later.

Oddly now that MD’s been swapped to a big boy’s bowl, which is identical to Doggo’s, they manage to keep their beaks in their own bowls. So perhaps it was bowl envy not food envy after all.

Now here’s a thought, they’re letting folk ride the complete Stoke Tour Of Britain stage of 142km on Sunday 6th September. Could I manage to stagger around that on my new bike? Hmmm, it’s probably hillier than you think around there.

We venture back into the Flowerpot today. It seems that the hopeless girl has gone or been made to go and we now have a new chef. He looks the part at least. He’s got the gear, the paunch, the chefing pj’s. Enthused, we order off the specials board and then wait with baited breath to see if the food is up to scratch. I had a bit of an unanticipated problem with going veggie. I ordered pasta in spicy tomato sauce with garlic bread, cheese and salad with good intentions because it sounded very veggie but they forgot to mention the mince in the sauce. Oops. L will kill me.

I get home and quickly start putting all the washing back on the line before L gets home. Seems like MD has accidentally pulled it off with his teeth again, at least he’s not tried to bury any of it. Well not today.

Then I drive him to training. The first thirty seconds of which go really well and then he’s off like a guided missile across the playing field. We all squint across the field into the early evening sun trying to see what could have sparked such momentous acceleration. Ah, we all say as one, a cat. It disappears through the hedge and we think that’ll be the end of that. MD will have to about turn and come back with his tail between his legs but no. His path never wavers, his pace never eases and then, accompanied by an explosion of leaves, he punches his way through the hedge and disappears from view, still in hot pursuit. I traipse across the field to try and retrieve my errant dog from whoever’s garden he has treated to his presence. Training was never quite the same after that.

L treats us to a high cholesterol tea. Multiple cheeses, namely gorgonzola and parmesan. So a glass of red wine is required to break up the cholesterol. She couldn’t get the tamagotchi, or did she say gnocchi, so we have some awesome looking pasta instead. I won’t miss the tama-gnocchi thing as I don’t know what one is. Gorgonzola, parmesan, posh pasta, red wine... not cheap this veggie lark.