George goes to the Woodchop

George has had a very exciting day. But not nearly as exciting as me. WELL, I mean how can you compare hanging out with a five year old who has eaten an entire bag of fairy floss and is going around and around in a teacup, with going to a gym-party and having to RUN and SKIP and DO BUNNY HOPS - all in a very jiggly bra.

I ask you.

But, this is not about me or my breasts being one centimetre closer to my navel. This week is all about George.
So our local Woodchop (which is a village fete with woodchopping involved) was on up at the pub/shopping centre today. Hubby took Miss Five (and apparently 'didn't notice' how much fairy floss she was eating). George accompanied her everywhere, down the big slide and was fascinated by the woodchopping competitions. I'm always terrified they'll take a leg off by accident, but George was pretty laid back about it all.

They got home at around lunchtime (which is when those in the pub are beered up enough to start wandering around and its best for small children to be elsewhere). Miss Five has spent the rest of the day white-faced and vile tempered. Poor thing. I've tried to redress the nutritional balance by offering vast quantities of water, fruit and other high fibre foods (like oats), but all she has done is scream "I want fairy fluff," at me. George has been unperturbed by this behaviour. Actually, I'm beginning to like George more and more. He's a bit like the dog, only he doesn't go around raping teddy bears and chewing off Barbie heads.

sigh.