Moms Who Hate Their Daughters

My days have taken on a comfortable rhythm. I wake up at 9, roll around and complain about it for twenty minutes, change into my daytime onesie, tidy my room and type for the rest of the morning. Siân has started watching Lord of the Rings (finally) and is powering through, so at lunch she makes us sandwiches and I explain what's happening to her.
I grumble and complain and slap the keyboard a little longer, gutting the candles and making my hands smell of winter berries, change into my pyjama bottoms and eat whatever glorious meal Siân or Lauren have made. This evening it was Italian chicken with peppers and olives. Lauren has just called it Codename: Delicious.
The girls settled on my bed to watch a Doctor Phil episode called "Moms Who Hate Their Daughters". Charming.