I don’t know how, especially considering that MP3 was on another food strike last night, but we managed to sleep late this morning—late being 9 AM. And since we were all in bed by 9:30 last night, it was indeed a long, blissful night of sleep.

I came down to feed the wee monkey and get the bread. Marc was standing pitifully in front of the toilets when I came in, looking as hung-over as a teetotaler can, and asking for permission to go back to bed. Of course you can! Don’t you realize that if you’re up the plan is all screwed? GO!

The other monkeys all awoke shortly thereafter. So I fed them, got them dressed and changed, and, in the case of Pooplette, re-changed as she decided to pour the contents of her bowl all down the front of herself and all over the floor. Mission accomplished (and the milk left on the floor of course, because I’ve got only two hands, no really, just two) and we climbed the stairs, monkeys in order of age, for the traditional attack of the feeble-minded.

Monkey-1 had, of course, made his Fathers Day present at school—a jar of ‘Sweet Word Jam’. Pooplette had painted a picture at the crèche, and MP3 is a gift in and of herself. I carried along brekky (which was brought right back down again because I’m married to a neat freak and hey! Crumbs! In the bed! OH HELL NO!) so he was happy.

Afterwards he was informed that today he gets to play dad because I am in pitch-and-toss mode and if he wants the house in some semblance of shape this is how he needs to help out. So he did. And I imagine at the end of the day I won’t be the only one claiming back pain…