The Stoopid Thing is I Can't Get the Bloody Queen Song Out My Head

Cal has a birthday looming, he has been promised a bike if he learns to ride the old one. Consequently we take him to the path that runs close to our house and run around, hand clasping the back of his saddle only to release him and see him cope with cycling until he realises what he's doing. All this to a mental Feddie Mercury soundtrack. Anyway the boy shows enough form to convince us that while not quite at the total solo stage he's close enough to warrant a purchase. So off we go to Halfords at the No Mercy. There we encounter Mr. Disinterested and his colleagues Mr. Bugger Off and the Saturday Boy. Still eventually in a purchase that involved all three in the space of half an hour at various points but with a universal lack of commitment to flogging bikes we buy Cal the thing. Hope them boys ain't on commission because it'll be lean times at Halfords if they are!

The rest of the day has been a mix of sleep, cooking and sleep. I wake up by evening and begin the washing (not that there is much of it, Monst's been busy with it through the week), but there is an incentive, fresh clean sheets tonight!

Listen to the footie along the way, Robbie Savage, shame on you, no wonder Gilberto fancied kicking you! Very pleasing win.