I'm not often up this late, but a cough that goes with...'flu/bronchitis/a cold is keeping me up here at the computer. Our red cat, Precious, sleeps on the sofa. Cats just seem to adapt to circumstances. When I'm feeling kind, the two of them, Inky and Presh, find a space near my feet -- sometimes they forget they aren't supposed to like one another and curl up together.
Last night I met the ex and some others at Cheeburger Cheeburger. Mr. C's Cub Scout troop had gone to a panto at People's Light Theatre. He was taking the DQ for the night, and I was picking up Mr. C.
The kids went to one table -- excepting Mr. C. He said he wanted to sit at our table so he could talk about the economy. But no one wants to talk about the economy, said his dad with a grin.
Given that I was starting to feel worse and worse, I played a small part in the conversation. And when Mr. C asked me tonight about Napoleon and Hitler (who may be the first and second Antichrist, say some Nostradamus experts) I wasn't a whole lot of help.
Was Napoleon French? Did he come from Corsica? Or was he exiled to Corsica?
Darned if I could recall. So I let Mr. C take over my computer and look up something that had been baffling him -- a timelines of the Iraq war. At which point I said, education's over for the night -- time to get to bed.
Aucun commentaire:
Enregistrer un commentaire