I continue to feel dead tired at work, but I’ve been holding out for Thursday and Friday to arrive: I have dinner with friends tonight, and then Fridate tomorrow, both of which have made the week worth persisting with. I’m also particularly upbeat about the prospect of achieving another five-day week: something which has been a challenge of late, but is starting to feel like less and less of an endurance test.

On the way home I grab some babysitting wine for Beryl along with some desert to take with me (chocolate orange cheesecake, if you were wondering). I go home to get showered, then back out to Macca’s to collect the standard “Daddy’s not cooking dinner tonight” takeout. Along the way the Elderbeast somehow negotiates his way from a small frozen Coke to a large one. One day he will make a great lawyer.

I then spend my evening in the company of two wonderful people, both perfect hosts, who give me lots and lots of good advice for tackling the Elderbeast’s behaviour and providing him with the support he needs. I drive home afterwards, tired but delighted to have such great people in my life, and optimistic that I can find a way to help the Elderbeast before things get too much worse.

I get home and the Elderbeast is still up: apparently he has, in the nicest way, refused to go to bed until I get home. I wonder if there’s an element of anxiety at the root of that, or if it was just a tactical play so he could sit up and watch TV. Eithet way, it’s nice that I get to see him and say goodnight properly.