The Queen....

is in Melbourne!  Lovely Liz was here today and I was nearly going to hook up with her for afternoon tea and explain that I don't get this Australian malarky just as much as she, but I was too busy being a Housewife and Mother.  I cannot believe that the best Melbourne Big Wigs could offer The Queen was a ride on a tram.  That would be like inviting Kylie to Oxford to ride on the No. 15 bus up Morrell Avenue.

Witnessed two accidents whilst out and about today. The first whilst I was driving down to Camberwell, Rufus and I saw a lovely dog being run over.  (David H read no further.) We did not see the actual accident, but witnessed this stupid blonde lady (why do they always have to be blonde and always have to be wearing some hideous concoction of gold jewelry?) trying to either go forwards or backwards in the car - whilst the poor dog was stuck between the front wheel and the rest of the car!

Obviously I stopped my car, wound down the window and screamed out "Stop! There is a dog underneath your car!" As I was doing so I noticed a few other people doing the same.  The poor dog eventually got itself free, limped across the road and howled on the side with its poor leg broken.  Some nice workmen helped out.

(A little interlude whilst I tell you that the reason for my journey in the car to Camberwell is that The Accountant called up with a Henry crisis.  Apparantely it was Bandana Day at the school and every child was wearing a bandana, except for Henry, as we knew nothing about it.  He was very upset at having such useless parents.  So I found an old bandana - from 1995 -  and was racing down to the school for morning playtime, so that Henry would not be mortified at being the only child not wearing Hip Hop headgear from the 90s.  Bandana Day! F**k Me! You see what I am dealing with over here......)

The second accident involved Rufus himself.  As he was speeding down our street in front of me a car reversed out of the driveway, and as Rufus is on a balance bike, he had nothing but his little feet to slow himself down.  It was a choice between riding straight into the car, or into a wall.  He chose the wall but was fine.  The car people got out to see he was OK, gave me a filthy look for pushing a pram and having a second on a bike (didn't even mention the third I was on my way to pick up) and went on their way.

Even worse - on the way home after all this, my flip flop (thongs for Australians) broke, so I limped home with one shoe on, pushing the pram, balancing scooter on top, Henry on bike "I'm too hot", Rufus on bike "I'm too tired", whilst keeping a beady eye on reversing cars and wayward animals (and children!).  I got some funny looks.

Easing into the evening by drinking some white wine and writing this blog....