Stuart emerged from his smelly post-football-watching-spare-bed-pit remarkably early this morning.
We had been invited to Zak's Reception class 'book signing' (I kid you not) this morning. Zak's class created a robot out of recycled materials over the last couple of terms and all the children had drawn a picture of this robot and written a sentence about it. Someone with a canny business head, or a partner in publishing, (sorry to be so suspicious) had decided to put all these stories together and publish it in a book entitled "Reece, The Recycled Robot". These books were being flogged this morning at Waterstones for ten pounds a pop, (although it was possible to purchase three for twenty pounds, if you were so inclined). So we dutifully popped along and bought one of these treasures which Zak signed with a kiss. It could've all been lovely if Sebi hadn't decided to throw a tantrum about the fact that we couldn't buy an exact replica of the 'Monkey Puzzle' book that we already own, just because this one happened to be shiny and new. He demonstrated his annoyance by laying face down on the bookshop stairs and howling. I tried to joke with the reception teacher about it being hilarious that she was going to have to deal with him in just over a year's time but she didn't seem to see the funny side of it. I'm not sure I would if I was having to fulfill my teaching obligations early on a Saturday morning....
We managed to distract the public and headmaster's attention by telling one of my BFF that her hubby, who had been in the same state and the same hostelry as my unfortunate husband last night, had set off a fire extinguisher and drowned a pool table in foam. Every cloud....
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