Barnaby Joyce just referred to Corinne Grant as a mattress. As in “I just look around this tablle and think mate, mate, mate, mate, mattress”
The Glass House is in fine form tonight. Fine fine form.
At the moment, no child who can walk in our house walks. There is much thumping, a lot of running, a lot of why walk over to the lounge and sit down when you can run, do a commando roll and dive into it. Now I understand why all of our houses looked trashed when we were teenagers. Our parents weren’t lazy, they just knew it was a lost cause.
Felix is currently obsessed with seeing animals, people, letters and numbers in food. i.e. he eats his food into shapes and then says things like, “look Mummy, this one’s like Chancellor Palpatine.”
Just when the obession with Star Wars couldn’t get more comprehensive, Foxtel seems to have managed to run at least one episode each and every day. BUT, there is a competitor to Star Wars. T.I.P.
I had seriously not thought about the notion of “bar” as something other than a place to buy a beverage until camping. When everything was bar. “No, the tent is bar”, “No, the table is bar”, “No, this cup is bar”, “No, rubbing my eye is bar” and so on and so forth.