Winton just a little too tired and a little sick with a sore throat and too sore last night, screaming "I HATE YOU" at me for 20 minutes because I made him take a quick bath (all the more necessary because his one-handed ass-wiping is really shoddy work).
Clara with a sore throat this morning, and off at school.
Me staring at an essay I thought I'd finished 18 months ago and am still (still) writing.
Snow in the forecast for tomorrow.
One of those silly buzzfeed quizzes said I was a medieval court jester, relieving people from their misery in times of darkness. I feel like I need myself : Give me an egg, nuncle, and I’ll give thee two