Happy thoughts... think happy thoughts

It was fairly late on yesterday before I let reality creep in and realised that the weekend was just too crammed with ...stuff to make room for the big blip cycle ride.

I had a couple more glasses of wine and came to terms with the decision.

At 5am, when Milo let out a blood-curdling scream I was quietly pleased with the choice I'd made, particularly as Mrs B got up to deal with it while I inserted ear plugs and rolled over.

But then the morning dawned fair - one of those crisp autumn mornings; very little breeze to speak of and a warming sun - and I must admit to pangs. The sort of pangs that make you decidedly less tolerant of screaming offspring and the arduous Saturday room-cleaning-for-pocket-money routine. I thought of the blip MAMILS with their free-wheeling bonhomie and, well, I may not have wished them well for a moment or two.

After giving myself a stern talking to I bucked up my ideas and zipped up my mansuit. This was no way to behave... take the kids to the park, get on with the jobs that stretch out through the weekend. Enjoy it before Monday arrives all too quickly.

The postman chose that moment to drop my Rouleur subscription through the letterbox. Complete with lead article on Cartier-Bresson and his cycling photography.

Not rubbing it in at all then.

Chap-bloody-eau