The 65 million dollar girlie

A businessman from Hong Kong has offered a 65 million dollar bonus for any man who will marry his daughter. The girl in question only likes kissing other girls but that's a small price to pay for a dowry of this size. I offer my services for this position, the cash will come in handy for buying my new Global Domination Cult headquarters.

In other news, I have invented a space-age weapon that will enable me to take over the world and repel alien invaders. It shoots hard-boiled eggs at trans-warp velocities. It is called the Luteal Phaser and with it, I can turn anyone into a Corpus Luteum. Aha.

In even more news, Jof has finished packing for her weekend away with the girls. This means she has run out of things to fuss and flap about. Fortunately Nanna has stuck her oar in and gravely advised her to be careful and not drink too much Pimms and fall into a flowerbed.

Today was the opposite, not just the successor, of yesterday. It rained heavily at pickup time but by Wednesday Park time, it was sunny with blue skies.

We couldn't let the side down so got a football to kick onto the roof and hastened round (with extra-big boots and spare raincoats in the bag). There was nobody there. A text to Ben went unread so we carried on regardless. But half an hour later, the rain started again and you could see it wasn't going to stop. Even the surly teenagers sulk-posing by the slide said Poldarks to this and left, as did the keenest of the dog-walkers, with their very dishevelled dogs. We got home without handing Ben his new Darth Vader toy, but at least when we got back, the sun came out. It is April.
This gave me time to practise this week's spellings. I was moved to tears at the unfairness of it all, the height of trauma weighs upon me, no naughty daughter ought to laugh.
Today I learn I am to inherit my great-grandfather's sword and medals. As a Colonel in the Artillery, he got both and I already have his uniform in the loft for when I reach his dizzying height (5 foot 1).