My Little Invalid

    The twisted ankle I mentioned yesterday? Well yes, that would be a broken foot, broke goodness knows how, but broken all the same, and the reason why my poor little chap spent an entire night sobbing softly in his sleep.

    And so we are confined to barracks again. And joy of all joys, Finn also has the kind of stomach upset that requires three visits to the loo every hour, and as the loo is upstairs, Mummykins here is thus required to throw her scrumptious little sack of spuds over her shoulder and lug him up there on demand as he is not allowed to walk... and to his joy, not allowed to bathe either.

    Bring on the board games! Oh and the valium if you please...

    On My Wishlist...