More by luck than judgement, I appear to have a couple of hours to myself. Eldest daughter is upstairs pretending to tidy her room (read: doing nothing of the sort), middle daughter is terrorising neighbours house, and youngest daughter is off to a birthday party at the local farm.
In a couple of hours time this rare “time to myself” will come to a screeching halt - I have to cook dinner for five little girls. Admittedly, “cooking” is a bit of a stretch - they’re going to have “party food” - frankfurters, chips, pizza, crisps, homus, and various chopped vegetables to dip. The “Tour de France” is on the television, and the sun is finally shining outside. What’s not to like?