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Good morning  mon cher and happy Sunday to my thousands of followers,


The Husband, the Prof and the Lips have just thrown some belongings into supermarket bags (for life) and are heading north for the holidays.

This leaves me with the dog, Fatty, the Face and the Prodigal.

What this means to me:

Now, we’ll REALLY be able to get to grips with who pees around the base of the toilet; who never flushes; who is smashing, breaking, cracking, scratching, marking everything; throwing around contents of rooms, boxes, the kitchen and walking off and leaving it, the mess, unclaimed.  Two (actually, let’s make that three as the Husband has potential for some if not all of those) are out of the equation. 

The Face and Prodigal are onto this. They know that when half of the Tribe of Potential Blame is out of the house, they have to watch themselves…….. if they’re really desperate they can blame the dog, who, as far as I am aware is not able to climb up into cupboards and open tins of sweets, chocolate, biscuits, crisps and cleverly stuff the empty packets under sofas, cushions, down the sides of beds…..but I’ll keep an open mind. Labradors, after all, are well known for their capacity to be trained.

If you follow this blog, you’ll know that the Husband ONLY arrived back from Paris last Sunday. Also, if you follow this blog, you’ll remember that the last time he came back after a two week holiday trip, he was bearing gifts (for a not so very high class pole dancer). This time – this time, what did he bring me back?

A family size packet of maltezers.

The ‘dog’ ate half of them.

p.s. that photo has nothing to do with the blog.  I just liked it. It’s how my head feels most of the time – kind of stripy and spinning. Come to think of it, it’s how my hair looks too (yesterday the Prodigal did my highlights for the first time).

We confess our little faults to persuade people that we have no large ones

Francois de La Rochefoucauld (1613 – 1680)