After this I'll stop talking about the weekend and my tour bus shenanigans, I promise, but one last thing- I think the way I've split the story up into four parts might be confusing, so here's what order to read them in, just in case anyone is interested, which I'm sure they're not:
Getting Nowhere: Part 1
Getting Nowhere: Part 2
Getting Somewhere: Part 1
Getting Somewhere: Part 2
Ok so that's the end of that business. Now it's back to prowling the house pretending to be a lion, carrying an invisible gazelle in my mouth. I almost locked my jaw but every time I tried to drop it the five year old screamed 'YOU NO DO THAT!' so I had to carry it around with me all morning.
I have got him to have a little nap now, the eleven year old has got her private tutor here and the eight year old is away for the week, so I've got two hours to drink tea and reflect on the events of the weekend. And once I'm done 'reflecting', I'll put it out of my head and I won't bore you with it again, promise.
So far the Easter holidays have not been as bad as I thought. Yesterday I took two of the kids to see their dad at work, he has his own luxury luggage label or something and he had a stall at this sports car show room thing. There were loads of cars being shown before they went off to the Grand Prix or whatever that big race is that's on this week. The latest Ferrai was there all covered up mysteriously and the dad said that in the evening they were going to unveil it. There were lots of very rich men milling around and I cursed the fact that I left all my make-up at Anna's on Friday night. It looks as though it will be a fresh-faced few weeks until I get paid because I won't be seeing Anna for a while. Oh well. I guess if I did manage to bag a billionaire Ferrai-dealer they'd probably expect me wash and stuff.