Thinking of something to write on my blog each day is quite hard. The only remotely noteworthy event over the last 24 hours was this morning. I look after my almost 3-year-old grandson from 8-9 every morning and then take him to fantastically competent and patient childminder - Donna - see previous blog. Then I either go to work or go home to work from there - or, as on Tuesday, thanks to glorious flexitime, I get a whole day to myself.
On the way to Donna's this morning he tripped over and fell flat on his face. Result: one large egg on his forehead and a snotty and grazed nose. Did he cry for his mummy? No - he cried for daddy. We had to ring him on his mobile and Tyler had to tell him all about how Granny had failed to hold his hand and stop him bumping his head.
Now folks - can you see the similarity here with yesterday's post? When his Grandad blamed the wall for only being eighteen inches high? Is it genetic. or is it a man-thing? Observations welcomed.
Now for the bit about shopping in Paris. I can now get a train from my local station and go direct to Paris in just under three hours. Only downside is that it is £89 one way.