Have a look at the picture below, and put yourself in my shoes for a moment (I'm a size 6 - I hope they fit you. Ooh they look nice - they're definately your colour).
This mistreatment of an innocent member of the Monkey Army was perpetrated by my friends. If you were me, would you have felt comfortable about handing your beloved hand-knitted monkey over to said friends? Would you have been confident that they would take good care of him?
Seriously, just look at these reprobates:
(Mainly the one on the right)
On the plus side, they did seem very pleased with their gift, which probably counts for something. I suppose.
Happy, I think.
But even so, the monkey looked a little nervous when it was time to leave with them.
Equally, I was genuinely very sad to see him go. But I fully intend to
steal him back eventually visit him often.
So, that was last night, and much fun was had by all. Unfortunately, today has really not been very nice. I've been feeling quite unwell with "Ladies' Issues", and work was pretty difficult - I don't know how they manage it, but I swear that teenagers' ability to be Hard Work is directly proportional to how grotty you already feel. Also, T'Other Half has gone away for a couple of days, so the flat feels a bit empty now I'm home. At a time like this, a girl really wishes her monkey was still around!
(Incidentally, with regards to the aforementioned Ladies' Issues, I am now convinced of the restorative powers of saturated fats - they get to the parts that paracetemol just cannot reach. This morning, pills didn't even take the edge off, and I was a hair's breadth away from telling my boss I needed to go home and hide under the duvet; but one bag of mini-cheddars later and I was heaps better. I tell you, I was almost weeping with relief. Should I inform the Lancet, or is this already widespread medical knowledge?)
But I digress. And so to finish on a more positive note:
Progress. Of sorts.