Tuesday, November 25, 2008


I had a huge argument with the girls this morning. Julie and Felicia, that is. Let me tell you that 3Am is not the best time to be making decisions for the future of the whole of Laverstone Manor. I’m glad I put my foot down about the Arab Stallion*. The baby’s not yet a week old and Harold wants to buy her a horse. “Let her learn to crawl first,” I said

Anyway, Julie’s been spending more time with the baby than Harold or Gillian have and she’s beginning to make decisions about Lucy’s future. I mean, Baptism? Is that really necessary? She and Harold are also deciding on a school for her. I can see Lady Devonshire’s School for Ladies of Discernment in her future if I can’t crowbar her into St Pity’s Comprehensive when she’s 11.

The crux of the matter is that Felicia stormed out. She was against the whole ‘Lucy is a new toy’ policy and wanted the kid to just grow up with a normal mum and a normal dad. Unfortunately there’s no chance of that. The poor little mite is doomed to a life of strangeness and unfamiliarity with soap operas.

Julie was all for throwing her in the lake.

Felicia, that is, not the baby.

*A horse, not Omar Sharif

Angela and the Baby Jesus by Frank McCourt, the whole concept of which amuses me.

1 comment:

aims said...

Ahhhhh! The joys of parenting!