Book fair at school this week, where a the school has a whole heap of books for sale, and we parents get sucked into buying them, and money is raised for the school.
Much better than a chocolate drive. But only because, with a chocolate drive there is a) no really, really nice gourmet chocolate on sale and b) we never get around to selling it all, we eat it because its there and then feel guilty and purchase whatever is remaining in the box, thus spending $40 on chocolate we neither want nor like very much.
This year, they had a children’s author there for the kids to chat to and ask stupid questions of. You know those questions that go “I have a cat” and the author waits patiently for the actual question (silly bugger) and just gets innundated with about 1000 more versions of “I have a cat.”
This particular author had some “How to draw a …” books. Monkey Boy, who hates picking up a writing or drawing implement of any description, is strangely drawn to these books and insists on purchasing some.
Grumpy looks over his shoulder and points to one. How to draw a dragon.
“You should get that one, mate. Then you won’t need to take pictures of your mother any more.”
Luckily, even when extremely sleep deprived, I have a sense of humour.