Bottom lips began to tremble at the supermarket check-out as the Misses T were told to return the TV Guide. I have never bought one. And I never will.
"But she's a Princess!"
Not yet. Another week. The manipulative mileage I have made out of the Royal Wedding is alarming.
If the girls are exceptionally good, at everything, all week, then we will go to Grandma's and watch the televised wedding coverage live. This is huge. Not only for the obvious reasons, but because it involves staying up very late. The prospect of late night gallivanting is almost overwhelming. And then there is the dressing up (for them).
Eldest Miss T is working up a mood board. I succumbed to the the pull of the corner dairy's cheap magazine titles for more material. There was frantic cutting and pasting all afternoon.
While she monopolised all things Royal and Wedding, I rediscovered the joys of creating my own mood board, exploring rather different themes.
I have to say, there is something enormously therapeutic about cutting and pasting, and all without one keystroke or mouse click.
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