Covered in Chlorine

Billy went swimming at a local pool this morning. According to one of Heidi’s (many) books, if he doesn’t go swimming now when he gets into water at a later stage he’ll hate it and scream the place down. He’s been learning what it feels like to be in water.

On his return Heidi decided he needed the chlorine washing off him. This seemed the most efficient method.


Last night we left Billy with a babysitter and went to Korea Town with EiNY. Heidi was very anxious about leaving Billy. She has read in another of her books that if your baby wakes up and you aren’t there they can suffer from abandonment issues for months afterwards.

When our food arrived we soon forgot about such nonsense. As you can see from the plethora of empty bowls and Paul’s daft expression it was very good food indeed.


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Our neighbors have sport on so loud the back wall of our living room is trembling. I don’t know which sport, I don’t care which sport, but it is definitely sport. I’d recognize those imbecilic roars anywhere.

The mystery of why people watch sport has always fascinated me. I must have spent hundreds of hours mulling it over and I can’t say I’m any closer to a real understanding.

Last week I suddenly remembered that I do like watching one sport and I always have.


And why do I like snooker when every single other sport in the world bores me to tears?

I don’t know.

Perhaps it’s because the crowd don’t howl like gorillas with nettles up their bums.

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