I’ve booked the day off work, as necessitated by school holidays, but I still get up to write. The first draft of the new story isn’t coming any easier yet: just 184 words today. I’m still somewhat ailing from The Plague. At least that’s my excuse.

Regardless, in a fit of energy I decide to corral the Kinderbesten into the garden to help clear the forest of weeds that have overtaken the passageway down the side of our house. The task doesn’t take too long, but I deeply regret not taking a ‘before’ photo–it would have provided some excellent nightmare fuel.

We then head to the shops, ostensibly so the Elderbeast can spend his EB Games voucher. When we fail to find a copy of the game he actually wants, there ensues a vibrant discussion over whether he should be allowed to buy Metal Gear Solid. He shouldn’t (and isn’t), because it’s R18, but it’s not until we’re driving home that he finally accepts this. These things can sometimes be a challenge, but the Elderbeast is becoming far more measured in the way that he tackles these first world adversities. It’s a good sign.

I am wrecked for the afternoon, so we all just chill out in our various ways. I am still wrecked when our friend Seb arrives for Fridate and barely have the energy to curate our Friday night viewing, as is my traditional duty. Luckily Rach suggests some music and I slowly compile a reasonably diverse playlist from the various delights and horrors that YouTube has to offer. At the Elderbeast’s behest we also enjoy a mandatory viewing of the SNL Super Showcase sketch.

I’m not sure that it’s beef, Karl …