Seb left nursery yesterday, it was a sad day indeed because I waved goodbye to some of my independence, but it'll be a nice break for him prior to starting school in September. I went out for the day though and popped into Ann Summers, strange store, a flagship one no less but not really that friendly. I thought I'd try and spice up the physical side of the relationship with Nick via the medium of new underwear, hence I tried on some of their 'dress up' outfits - oh dear! I just looked darn silly and that's no way to behave in the bedroom. As for the basques, well let's just say that the cup size was seriously inadequate and as for all of the hook and eye fastenings, they'd probably tire you out before you'd even got around to getting frisky with your man/partner/lover/butler etc.
Margaret's coming over later; it seems as if she and the revolting Roger have been able to save the shop being looted which in these troubled times is somewhat of a miracle. She'll hog the V+ box no doubt, sometimes I wish she'd pay out for a cable package of her own but she's far too mean.
PS - the strange title of this blog posts relates to Seb's behaviour this morning. He managed to smash seven eggs in the living room this morning and I wasn't best pleased. The place still smells, well, eggy. I hope Margaret doesn't think that I have a flatulence problem!
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