Slow start to the week

The girls both came into our room by five this morning, so I went and slept on Destroyer’s bed. Somehow, even though we moved super sluggishly, I was out the door with La Serpiente by 8, which gave us ample time to take the bus to Tiong Bahru, feed her an entire pain au chocolat, and then amble to school. I even managed to find a hire bike and get myself on a train into the office, arriving promptly at just after nine. The day was going like clockwork.

What wasn’t going so great was my neck. It’s been growing stiffer for a while now, and the last straw was probably carrying Destroyer on my head yesterday. As it grew more and more painful to do things like push doors open, pick up cutlery and other trivia of the modern lifestyle, it was clear it needed proper attention. And that doesn’t mean twenty minutes pummelling in a rub-a-tug joint in the red light district, thank you very much. I went off to the doctor, came away with a kilo of medicine and a referral to a physio, and then went home via a cake shop to see my slightly bonkers children.

Tonight I had to put Destroyer to bed, so I downloaded Mythago Wood to my Kindle and read it to her. She didn’t like it very much, and kept demanding Roald Dahl, but I think she needs to learn about her British heritage. Which, as anyone will tell you, is clearly contained within the pages of Mythago Wood. There will be no bad consequences, that is assured.

She was down by nine, which felt like it was a very long time, but since we got her into her bedroom at eight, I suppose it was actually quite an efficient embedding tonight. That gave us time afterwards to drink sloe gin and ginger ale, and then retreat to our beds, happy in the knowledge that the day was over and done with. And now to sleep the anti-inflammatory-enhanced sleep of the just, until the morning comes.

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