Middle-man will be nine tomorrow. He has been counting the hours and minutes, and I bet you anything he will stay awake until a minute after midnight so we can congratulate him on his birthday!
The cake (a square Madeira cake which will be butter-iced and decorated with sprinkles and candles) is baking even as I write. Smells good!
Thanks to veryfunnypics.com for the image, so pertinent to the story I'm about to tell ...
What a Saturday! I was woken up by no.3 son presenting me with a handwritten note telling me that he didn't like swimming and wasn't going. Oh, yes?
We all got to the swimming-pool in time for our 9 am lesson. At five past nine, no.3 son became not a school, but a Pool Refuser. I charged into the Gents changing room, called him to stop hiding in the cubicles, frog-marched him out and back through the Ladies changing room to the pool-side.
I followed SuperNanny's advice. Got down to his level, made him look at me, and told him calmly but firmly that he was going to have a swimming lesson. I had an audience of three other pool-side Mums and a whole viewing-area full of parents on the other side of the glass-fronted wall. So, I'm proud to say that I didn't loose my cool, and he did end up in the water - I got him sat on the edge of the pool and passed him down to the swimming instructor. After which, I do believe the little fraud enjoyed himself.
It was unfortunate that Cello Boy's orchestra practice began at exactly the same time that the swimming lesson ended. So yes, we were late, but it didn't seem to matter too much. I had time to read a friend's letter and drink coffee outside in the sunshine before I washed the car, before we went all the way back to collect Cello Boy again!
Since then? All the usual Saturday activities - washing, cooking, shopping. Decided I'd got about as far as I could go with the research artice revisions, and sent it off to the editor. Readers, keep your fingers crossed for me.
Now I'm about to chase no.1 son to bed, before I check the cake again. I don't feel like starting anything terribly intellectual at this time, so maybe I'll move some books round on my bookcase as I've been planning all week. It isn't work, but will make the corner look a bit tidier. Once a librarian, always a librarian...