Happy

With his little self

Well, good for him.

We had an absolutely brilliant parents evening for Charlie this week, so he was allowed to choose a treat.

Next time, I shall be choosing the treats

The Red Hot World Buffet* was his choice.

Jesus Fucking H Christ on a bike.

Some of the food was ok (ish, like jalapenos from a jar, that you can put on everything else). Some of it was not ok.


Charlie channels his inner gluttony and loves a buffet, I can't tell you how may helping of chicken korma & calamari he had, .

Libbie ate her own body weight in noodles. And ice cream, but was disappointed about the lack of olives. And sausages.

I complained.

The bright white doorway there, that was my view, the clearing sink.

The manager (doubtful) told me, yes it was not a great table.

In fact it is the last table to be given to anyone. Apparently.

Given that we were eating at 6pm and the restaurant was not full, I did not quite believe him.

All of our food was free.

When Mr La La asked why I had complained (in a manner which is very La La, which involved asking the "manager" to come sit in my seat) I said, if you had seen the bloke cleaning the plates scratching his arse more than once then maybe you would have complained too.


Just my wine bill to pay.

Always embarrassing.


*loose terminology