Romantic texts and Pancake Day

We were all deserted by Dad Monday night, as he was off on business to Bristol, so it fell to us to protect Mum from ghosties and ghoulies and things that go bump in the night. So when Dad texted Mum with a romantic "Good morning - I am missing you" on Tuesday morning, he got back something along the lines of "Yeah, and I missed you too at Oh-Christ Hundred Hours in the morning when the foxes were kicking off in the back garden". Dad guessed someone had turned off the "Middle-of-the-night-dog-releasing-button" (Guess who usually has to get up to let us out!)

Dad got back in time for the pancake party. Mum had got the batter ready but neither Dad, nor John, Denis or Diamond had turned up yet, so instead of just lemons and sugar, Mum had got bored and started getting out ever more possible fillings - choc spread, jams, segments of satsuma, sliced banana, Greek honey..... you name it. She'd made gallons of batter, so everyone was full to bursting.

Poor old-Dad, we are told, didn't get any, as first-Mum (daren't call her "old"!) thinks they are just for kids. When he found out we'd had them, he sent first-Mum a "written warning" e-mail with photo's attached so she'd know what lemons looked like. He copped such a telling off! Poor old-Dad. Hope he didn't get too killed when he got home!

Now Mum and Dad are into something awful called "Lent" when they jokingly challenge each other to go without alchohol for 40 days and 40 nights. Bet they don't make it. They want me to give up poo-ing indoors. Might. Might not.... Mind you, apparently, when you are an Irish Catholic (Mum says) you are allowed an exemption on Paddy's Night. Even Bono says so, so it must be true.

Deefs