But that is not what I wanted to write at all. No, I merely wanted to say that tomorrow is Hedda's ninth birthday, and I feeling strangely calm and collected, considering we've got nine girls coming to stay the night. I think I know why. Hedda, whose middle name is usually high-maintenance, has decided she doesn't want a novelty party cake, i.e. something that requires work. Only a tray of brownies with ice cream. In a positive flush of efficiency I have already baked these (not the ice cream, obviously), bought 3 kilos of oven chips and 36 mini pizzas. The showpiece will be our totally kitsch cocktail fountain (with colour-changing lights), which I shall fill with apple juice.
PS: My standards must be slipping. I just went to Aldi wearing my tracksuit bottoms and no earrings.
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