Murder, trifle, slamming things

I am trying to work out how to murder someone. It's a writing thing, not an actual thing you'll be happy to hear. Nonetheless, it doesn't feel very healthy, devoting thinking time to it. I wish it could just sort itself out and I would sweep in and solve it. But alas, I must do the killing as well as the thrilling denouement. I'll let you know how it goes. I am leaning towards rohypnol and a quick shove into the docks. But I'm also going to need to weigh the body down. You see, not healthy. Let's talk about something else.

The biggest boy went to France for a week and is now all continental. He also had a birthday and got braces - it has all been going on for him. He's finding eating tricky, not least because they've sort of propped his teeth apart to stop him actually biting them together. We are all mystified as to how he is supposed to chew things. Does he have to eat soup for two years? Of course, we should have asked at the time, but he was a bit stunned by it all and I was struggling to stay awake (bad sleeping again). I am compiling a list of things that can be eaten without teeth. Gnocchi and trifle, here we come.

I have been busy, busy, busy here, but frustratingly no-one else in the house appears to have anything to do. I am grinding my teeth and building slowly towards explosion point. It's a common thing I think, that the woman of the household does almost everything. And the more capable the woman is etc. I shall say no more, but imagine me simmering away and slamming things.

Hence the weekend promises to be tense. I would rather love to decamp with my laptop to a cafe and come home when it's all over. But of course I would miss the urchins after half an hour. Well, at least after a month or two. So we will all rattle round together and no doubt it will be good. I shall concentrate on keeping my mouth shut and Getting On With Things. Wish me luck. And if any bodies bob up in the docks, it almost certainly will not have been me.