Getting bent into shape

This evening I went for another appointment at the physio. That was 45 minutes of somebody palpating the muscles in my neck, which is another way of saying I lay there in abject agony while I got stretched and adjusted, and then I walked home, groggy and dazed, my head slightly more mobile and my neck more sore than when we started.
I got back to find the children playing happily, running around the flat hand in hand and carefully spreading every soft toy they have across the floor of their bedrooms. They came and squealed at me for a while, then lolloped off again.

I had dinner, then tried to put the girls to bed. I read La Serpiente the rather sad Grandad’s Island, then read Destroyer Jack and the Beanstalk, then fell asleep on her bed, which is now my usual modus operandi for persuading her to fall asleep. Lead by example.

And so and on and on, days without end…

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