It's just that phase when it's getting all too much. Too many of MY chocolates being eaten by children and their entourage. Too many presents still strewn over the floor with no apparent home. Too many of those really horrid sour sweets (the ones that are covered in sugar) ground into the carpet, and to cap it all I've just spilt the alien (and associated alien fluid) in the kitchen. I've yet to tell my son about it but I'm sure he'll be understanding. The last few hours he's been playing happily on the X-box with his sister having said he was doing "family bondage".
However, still on a high with by election fun. Apparently, the really important people who are hanging on to my every word about the campaign are incommunicado. Oh dear, what a pity, never mind.
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