It’s odd at home without Daughter. The place seems less like living in Paddington Station without her, which has its benefits, but it’s eerily quiet.
We go away on Thursday and she doesn’t return until Friday. Then when we get back from our trip Son immediately heads off to Newquay. We assumed this was a lads’ trip but no... he’s off with a girl and her parents. He’s a dark horse. Apparently she’s just a girl who's a friend. L says we're not debating that one. That’ll be the old men and women can't be friends issue then.
L’s taking him shopping tomorrow, mainly for swimming trunks, in case he intends partaking in watery frivolities in the surfing capital of the UK and to avoid him having to skinny dip with his friend... and her parents.
L’s not having the best of days, dropping her new watch, forgetting her breakfast and having to wrestle with the telephone system of the tax credits people, predominately to stop them paying us too much. We shouldn't have to do this. If they got everyone’s details right in the first place people wouldn’t have to ring up, then all their lines wouldn’t be busy.
In the evening I head over for dog training, dropping L off on the way so that she can run with some friends. They start and finish at a pub naturally. Well at least I can have a pint when I pick her up.
(Tuesday 3rd August)