Sorry, watch your feet there! There are a lot of fairies dead on the floor around here. I know you don't care about my feelings but I thought you would care about the fairies. Well, you live and learn. The fairies don't of course - live that is. Ninety - three of them have expired. Margaret saved one and the usual suspects saved a number but the rest are tatie bread! There'll be a shortage soon and then were will all those kiddies be? Looking for a pound under the pillow and finding zilch because there's no fairies left to deliver them that's where.


I'm only home for one day and the slave driver is making me blog. That'll teach her - she thought I would still be in holiday mood and wouldn't rant. Ha!

We had an interesting start to the break. Half way to the airport the Biglad realised that he had left his mobile on the window sill. It wasn't his fault - no it wasn't really - even I could see that. I mean he had one thing to remember to lift for himself. Anyone could have forgotten something. He'd made a list - it took two pages - and checked that I'd packed everything he'd thought of while sitting at lunch in work. I had. I'd even remembered those things that he hadn't thought of - like the passports. So, it wasn't his fault that he'd forgotten the one thing that was solely his responsibility; by the time we got home again to pick up his mobile it was indeed my fault because I hadn't reminded him. So, onto the airport where One and Only daughter's handbag was deemed to contain threatening material so they took it off the conveyor belt, placed it at their feet and left it there for half an hour. Meanwhile our flight was being called. I asked for the supervisor and was told that they were busy. 'Really? - that's fine - I'll just go and have her paged.' Suddenly they weren't that busy at all and when they had a second look decided that her handbag was fine actually - just stuffed to the gills with the detritus of a young woman's life really.

The taxi driver at the other end got lost as the hotel where we were staying was brand new, as was the road. In the end we were all hanging out the windows of the taxi asking passers by. Lots of Gaelic shrugs. Rang the hotel and they talked us in. Note to self - don't bother with those electronic yokes - they're useless.

Then someone at the hotel had keyed all the week's bookings in as the coming week's and they were all very confused as none of the people standing at reception matched the names for the rooms. Two cups of coffee later and we were sorted. Nothing else could go wrong. Three o'clock in the morning proved that what can go wrong, will go wrong. Who needs to smoke at three o'clock in the morning in a non smoking hotel? Someone obviously. At that ungodly hour I was woken by a very strange noise. Thumped at the Biglad. 'What's that?' 'Sounds like the fire alarm,' and he went back to sleep. All the emergency lights were on and the fire doors had all flicked into place and he was going back to sleep. I am never leaving him in charge of the children anywhere, ever again. They could have been toast. All three of the kidderlings slept through a siren that would have woken all of those fairies who have gone to a better place. There was a plus side. French firefighters are worth looking at even at three in the morning and watching the one in charge decimate the smoker made the rest of us break into spontaneous applause. You didn't need to understand all the words to understand the meaning. The grin he gave us at the applause left a lot of drool needing to be mopped up off the floor in the lobby.

The rest of the holiday only had one place to go after that and it obliged. Disney did what Disney does best and Paris did what it does best. Disney sparkled, and twinkled and provided all the ohs and ahs and Paris provided all the culture and haughtiness demanded of it.

The diet is waiting until Wednesday as the O&OD and I are off for some more culture and lots of eating in Edinburgh tomorrow. I did stand on the scales this morning - they tell lies. Please let them be telling lies.