Something terrifying is happening tomorrow. Something that scares me even more than my first-thing trip to worship at the altar of the God Of Hairdressing, and hear what he's got to say about my rather nasty home-colouring episode.
Thing One, at the grand old age of nearly-eleven, has been recalled to a third audition for a very cool role. This is impressive as she only registered with the agency on 1 September and this is her first attempt. However.
And boy oh boy it's a really big however. M can't bring her down to London, as he has to go Oop North in the afternoon to see the Overlord. I can't bring her down, as I'm already down. So the plan is that he puts her on the train in Smallville, and I meet her at the barriers at the other end. All she has to do is STAY ON THE TRAIN.
The furthest Thing One has been on her own so far is - let me think - nowhere. She hasn't even been to the corner shop without Thing Two for moral support. Life isn't like that these days, is it? At her age I could stay out all day on my bike till the street lights came on. Didn't have a watch, never mind a mobile phone.
So, spare a thought for me between 1329 and 1501, as time will stand still.
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