Yesterday ended up going strangely. The wife had only been away for the day and already I'd regressed into wearing day-glo sweatbands and by the end of the day found myself looking at suspicious photographs of Tom Jones. Basically I was turning Welsh.
But that was just me. That's par for the course. My kids would be fine and would likely pull me out of the hole. I mean - it's not as if they'd mentally degrade to such a level that they'd just spend hours jerking around the house yelling, "WINKIE PENNY!!" like foul-mouthed perverts.
Frankly I'm worried. My son has very linear logic. For him to come up with that phrase suggests he is storing money in his foreskin like a disturbing gerbil.
Today is going to be unusual.