Birthday boy... er man, er old fart.

Phoebe went to her ballet exam on Wednesday. You'd have thought that it was the Royal Ballet for the perfection that was expected. The teacher is a bit of task master... and even pushes the parents about!

Phoebe reckons that Miss 'Yakanpushalotoveranova' is right up there....
Matilda thinks she's an arsehole.

Now dear reader, what can we project from this?



On the other hand, Matilda gives sugar the big thumbs up.... everyone has their Achilles heal don't they!



Molly and the girls had a good time today too. They had a go with my old stage make up. Molly took this pic below and the one above.



It was my birthday, and we went out in the evening to 'the tomato brothers' eater.. they don't mind kids.



...and even give them dough to play with - and then bake it. This is a butterfly NOT a bunny, which the waitress thought it was. (With some grounds I thought)



At 48, I've reached some kind of watershed I feel. I definitely realise that girls in shops are not looking at me anymore, but past me. I don't look in the mirror with any semblance of vanity, my skin is too big for me, my hair is really thinned out, and my teeth are full of metal.

But It don't mean nuffin. I really couldn't be worried about it less. I'm older, but even though I'm grumpy, I really am wiser than I was (It's a relative concept before you write to object to that statement!).

Off to Fraser on Sunday... all permits bought, got the waders, the rods, the tackle, the canopy on the ute, the tent, the cookers, the fuel tanks, the water tanks, the back up battery, the dual battery charging system, the shovels, the inverter, the cold box, the food, the tools, the snatch straps and shackles.... now where are we going to sleep?