Is it really the end?

Two full days at home and two full days of Washing The Holiday Wear. I’ve just completed hanging the last load, accompanied and assisted by a chocolate smeared toddler. I don’t care. I’m not washing them again. It is the end. I have done all the clothes, towels and tea…

If only chocolate could fix it …

Ah, Easter Sunday, where I am up at some stupid hour starting with the figure 4, getting caught by the six year old as I’m trying excruciatingly hard not to make any noise (damn floorboards!) and attempting to hide behind a door. Wander out into dark, as even the sun…