It's going from bad to worse on the hair front, a few weeks ago friends told me I looked like Julie Driscoll once my hair started to grow back on but now I have all these grey curls, Jess ruffles my head and tells me I look like Melanie Phillips. Now the only good thing about Melanie Phillips is her hair but that is not saying much as she is a peculiarly unpleasant, Zionist, gender betraying, misanthropic scumbag. Ok Julie D was a bit of an airhead and wore too much makeup but she didn't turn your stomach. I plan a visit to the hairdressers to tidy it all up and maybe dye it purple. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
The journey back was uneventful, we met a nice bloke called Thierry who at 1.45am in a pretty depressing service station was cheerful and jokey, perhaps he was on drugs but he managed to make us smile and sold us some Diesel. We were all knackered, me mainly because every time I dropped off we went round one of the zillion roundabouts on the road up through Normandy or I had to be nudged awake to pay a toll. Right hand driving has many downsides. Since then we have been catching up on creche duties and falling in love with our grandsons all over again, Danny has been transformed into a talking, biddable, beaming boy while we have been away. Which with my curls means we have a lot to smile about. You know smiling Melanie, it's when you feel good about things or something makes you laugh and your mouth turns up. And it's infectious .. try it sometime.