This is blog post number 2,222, and with that many number twos, what you really need is a decent toilet seat...
That arrived in the post today. I installed it twenty minutes ago, and I've just sat on it for the first time. It's surprising how strong they can make plastic these days.
Personally I thought there was nothing wrong with our old toilet seat, but Lisa assures me that Amelie can't keep using a bucket in front of the TV for the rest of her life (I didn't press her for the reasons why), so I've been forced to fork out for something all three of us can use. This one has a big seat for Lisa, a little seat for Amelie, and a solid seat for me to relax on when I lock myself in the bathroom to avoid them both.
On the subject of Amelie, the news from out east is that she's still a bit peaky, but on the rocky road to recovery. Frankly she needs to take inspiration from a patient I saw in Burgess Hill today who, despite being in her eighties, travelled fourteen miles across Sussex just to see me, after the clinic in her home town was cancelled. It was like Jesus and the blind man. Except I didn't spit in her face.
Tragically, however, today hasn't all been about health, vitality and the triumph of the human spirit. We received word this morning that Pie, Lisa's sister's cat, and Amelie's second favourite feline, has been knocked down by a car and killed. Even Lisa's Mum has been in tears, and she can sit stony-faced through Bambi. So we're all a bit down about that. The life of Pie was a novel adventure, but at the end, there's only a Tiger left. It's a sad, sad story. RIP Pie.