rushrushrush

Somehow, in between my return to work and keeping Babycake smiling, we forgot to go on holiday. We decided to ditch the June plans and instead go off for a few days in July to celebrate our anniversay and have a couple of weeks in October. Of course that didn't happen either, as we only remembered our anniversary when Big Sister sent us a card. Truly we are useless at remembering the happiest day of our lives (and no, Babycake's birth was not the happiest day, we were both a little too shell shocked to be properly happy). Mr McMuffin seems quite keen on returning to Rome (now in September, for some reason) and nipping over to Florence for a few days and wants to get things organised. He doesn't understand that one of the best bits about holidays for me, is in the possibility of it all and the minute you decide, all the other possibilities just disappear. Of course Mr McMuffin may understand all too well and is trying to make sure we actually get to go away, rather than just dithering about.

Last weekend my Big Sister and the Niece and the Nephew came down from the frozen wasteland of York to bask in the balmy south. It was lovely to see them and Babycake thoroughly enjoyed the fuss they made of him. My sister and her husband have done a great job with the children and they are confident, polite and witty. The Niece still thinks Gypsy Tart and I are 'cool' for old ladies and went away with armfuls of vintage (we used to call them charity shop specials) clothes from the sixties and seventies. When I told her that I used to wear a short black and white dress with a pair of baseball boots way back when, the admiration in her voice made me think I might have actually have been as cool as she thought I was. Of course, I know the truth, but it was nice to be as much of a style icon as Kate Moss for a few, precious seconds.

Anyway, I have to go as Mr McMuffin thinks he needs to use the Mac. What a shame he started smoking again. He could have looked forward to being a two Mac household in October and having his own machine to play on, if only he hadn't been such a weakling. I read that last bit out to him and he didn't even crack a smile. Honestly, some people are just so serious. And weak.