Word.

Well hello there, post-Easter pimples. Nice to see you again. I'm not sure why I think a four-day sugar binge will result in anything but breakouts and diabetes comas, but I seem to do it every year. I do rather love a Lindt Dark Bunny breakfast. The trick is not to eat both the bunny and countless little Cadbury hunting eggs in the same 24-hour period. Holy Confused Secular Symbolism, Batman, those tiny nuggets are The Best. (I may or may not have purchased two more bags of them from the half price remains section in the supermarket yesterday.) The Boy has a rule that you have to stop when your pile of foil wrappers can be rolled into a ball bigger than an actual egg. A wise man. It's a shame I don't listen to him.

In other news, lucky I was lying down in bed yesterday morning when the kid wanted me to sing to him in the pre-dawn gloom. 'Row boat!', he said. Followed by 'love you', 'radio' and later on, 'apple'. BAM! We're talking.