I am blogging because I'm avoiding getting in the shower.  I know it's inevitable, I even know it has to happen quite soon.  I just can't be buggered playing chicken with the damn thing.  It's worse now.  Showering has now become a matter of cowering at the wrong end of the bath, soaping up and then dashing under the spray as it turns lukewarm and frantically scrubbing as much soap back off as possible before beating a hasty retreat.

Nursing sore lips.  They were getting better until I gave J a kiss earlier and he shredded them with his glass shard stubble.  Sulking considerably.

This morning Taz went bananas (as usual) when the postman turned up.  He thought it would be a good idea to grab the mail, yank it out of the postman's hand and drag it through the letterbox.  There have been one too many toothmarks in important items now so I have been out and invested in a letter cage to go on the back of the door.  HA!