Before that, when I would have been catching the train down to London (if daughter#2 had made her appearance on the right day 13 years ago) I am going to be sitting in the doctors (for probably about the same amount of time as it would take to get to London) waiting for a Tetanus injection, after Muffin the rabbit took a chunk out of my finger on Saturday.
*sniffs bravely and assumes a pious expression* A lesser person would probably be very bitter.
6 comments:
Oh sob! Poor you, put the prosecco in the fridge immediately, you deserve it.
And doesn't that naughty rabbit realise who he's biting?! Award winning authors *need* their fingers. Honestly ...
(did ya finish it? You know, the booky thing?)
Rabbits and daughters are just so selfish! Do they not think about these things? Do they not plan ahead? Use foresight?
Tut!
Oh no! Which finger? Are you going to have to carefully plan a manuscript without using the letter 'p' or something?
Selfish child!
I remember being horribly upset at eldest because she *dared* to be born during Deidre's wedding to Samir on Coronation Street. Since then, I've given myself a good talking to and learnt to live without the soaps but back then I wasn't pleased.
Hope the party went beautifully :-)
What is it with daughters and birthdays? Have they no sense of timing?
With 365 days in the year, Girl Two still managed to be two weeks late and arrived on my birthday! Now we have to share.
Too bad you're missing out on a champagne opportunity. Fingers crossed for Abby Green - just not the one Muffin took a chunk out of. Aouch!
SORRY for rude non-appearance ladies! Can't really blame the rabbit (bite is on middle finger, but down by first joint so not really a barrier to typing) or daughters for this one, but am definitely blaming the current ms. Two weeks to deadline and I'm in that place where reality is an abstract concept.
Rach, I finished the booky thing part 1. As this is a duo I held back the first part to do the final edits as close as possible to the deadline for the second part, so all the loose ends were tied up. Two deadlines in a month - pass me the prosecco!
I'm so glad other people have children with the same sense of poor timing. And why do they never arrive when they're supposed to? I guess it's to prepare you for a lifetime of being caught on the hop - either getting a text saying 'Pick me up NOW pls' when you've just made a cup of tea, or sitting for hours on the double yellow lines outside the station watching a gazillion other people come out with your child not amongst them.
Anyway, enough insane rambling - back to the book!
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