Here I am again, on a grey, rainy Monday, when the English football team have once more failed to impress. Nothing new there, then. Titus, bored by the lack of action during the game, turned his attention to his darling mother's face. Mummy, you've got a spot growing, he told me. I know, I answered, through gritted teeth. It is my pet spot. I've had it the last twenty years. Every couple of months it rears its ugly head anew, ruins my complexion for the best part of a week, I muck about with it ineffectually until it subsides again, biding its time. Titus decided to give my spot a name. Frank. I hadn't the energy to argue. I felt Frank literally glowing with pride, and stuck some ancient nappy-rash cream on it - sorry, him - to keep him down.
Meanwhile, CG came home from work today with a curious set of apparatus under his arm. Encased in a snazzy blue bag. I swear he oozed excitement when he told me that this was a snore-monitor. Pretending it was a real drag, he told me that he has to wear this contraption from 10 pm tonight (actually, in 3 minutes, I realize in horror) until 6 am tomorrow morning. Various sensors will supposedly note his equally varied nocturnal noises and breathing disturbances. He must surrender the recording tomorrow morning for analysis. Thereafter, a sleep expert will tell him what we both already know, namely that he makes weird noises in the night. I don't care, because I have already found a solution - ear plugs. But I didn't like to tell him that I've been sleeping like a baby since this discovery, as it was me who forced him to get medical help in the first place. He's just popped his head round the door to remind me that it's "nearly time" - I can hardly wait. I bet neither of us gets a wink of sleep.
My last comment has to be on national anthems. I only really like four - GB (naturally), France, Germany and the USA. When you watch international championships of any kind, you get a taste of other, weirder anthems. Not once have I heard one that I could hum again the next day. I truly believe that the newer the country, the more complex and long the national anthem is. Take the Ukrainian one, for example. It is nearly a whole opera. And nobody knew the words, least of all the president.
Meanwhile, CG came home from work today with a curious set of apparatus under his arm. Encased in a snazzy blue bag. I swear he oozed excitement when he told me that this was a snore-monitor. Pretending it was a real drag, he told me that he has to wear this contraption from 10 pm tonight (actually, in 3 minutes, I realize in horror) until 6 am tomorrow morning. Various sensors will supposedly note his equally varied nocturnal noises and breathing disturbances. He must surrender the recording tomorrow morning for analysis. Thereafter, a sleep expert will tell him what we both already know, namely that he makes weird noises in the night. I don't care, because I have already found a solution - ear plugs. But I didn't like to tell him that I've been sleeping like a baby since this discovery, as it was me who forced him to get medical help in the first place. He's just popped his head round the door to remind me that it's "nearly time" - I can hardly wait. I bet neither of us gets a wink of sleep.
My last comment has to be on national anthems. I only really like four - GB (naturally), France, Germany and the USA. When you watch international championships of any kind, you get a taste of other, weirder anthems. Not once have I heard one that I could hum again the next day. I truly believe that the newer the country, the more complex and long the national anthem is. Take the Ukrainian one, for example. It is nearly a whole opera. And nobody knew the words, least of all the president.
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