I woke twice in the
night needing the loo. Each time I went I was followed by an exodus of dogs,
all of whom wanted to go up to the attic room to bother “Daddy’s Little
Angel TM”, “Stormageddon – Bringer of Destruction TM”
and “Darcie Waa Waa TM”. All of whom actually cried when
they were told they couldn’t because they would wake the baby.
We all got up just after seven and over brekkie watched “Lube-Tube”
videos of dachshunds getting in to scrapes. Dachshund Olympics, European
holidays… it was all good fun.
After a flying visit
from Auntie Cheryl we settled the dogs and set off to Flip Out for “Stormageddon – Bringer of Destruction TM”’s
birthday treat. We got there, put on our special socks (you have to wear the
right socks), and trampolined about like things possessed. It was rather
good, if a tad tiring. Though it probably didn’t help with me being fifty years
past their target age.
After
two hours boinging and jumping and playing tag in a three-storey maze our time
was up, and so we went for lunch. The birthday boy was given the choice of
venue, and he chose McDonalds. Good lad.
A Big Mac with extra gherkins followed by McFlurry with extra choccie and
monkey blood is always a good thing.
We
then ran the Folkestonians home, and came back to the garden for a cuppa. I
toyed with the idea of taking the dogs out, but they all seemed knackered. They
too had been worn out from the grandchildren staying over… or (more likely in
their cases) having had Pogo staying over. Instead I read a couple of
chapters of my Kindle and then slobbed on the sofa feeling rather washed out. I
suppose having the family round was a tad intense.
“er indoors TM” boiled up a pizza
which we scoffed whilst watching more “Lego Masters: USA” and all sorts
of other stuff. With the Sky-Q box you can record stuff six times faster than
you can watch it. Recording TV programs isn’t an issue, but watching them is akin
to fighting a losing battle.
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