It means that for the past five days, Lisa's Mum has been walking around completely unaided by the gods of good fortune. No wonder she didn't pick the winner of the Grand National. As things stand right now, serendipity is just another word she can't spell. But the point is, she has no idea. She's blissfully unaware of the state of fateful misfortune in which she's currently living her life. And let's face it, if the thing worked, she wouldn't have lost it. So I'm tempted not to tell her. It hasn't done her any harm so far, and it means her handbag will be a bit lighter from now on. On the downside, when we pop over to see her at the weekend and find her lying at the bottom of a lift shaft with a massive safe on her head, I might feel a bit guilty.
Anyhoo, I'm on annual leave this week, which is why I'm busy retrieving Amelie from under the sofa, instead of picking up pensioners' walking sticks from the side of a retinal screening camera. Lisa's making the most of a live-in babysitter by doing all the things she can't normally get done without breaking the laws on child neglect. She's currently at the hairdresser, and has booked herself a dentist's appointment for Wednesday. So it's hair today, crown tomorrow.
I've spent a lot of the past two days trying to get my money's worth out of Amelie's shoes by taking her for so many walks that they might actually be worn out before I have to buy her a new pair. But with the new series of Britain's Got Talent due to start on Saturday, we've also invested a lot of time in trying to find a way to incorporate Chloe into our stand-up comedy act. It was yesterday morning, during a rehearsal in her new pyjamas (£4 from George at Asda, if you're wondering), that Amelie finally found a way...
We're like Siegfried & Roy on a budget.