I'm not sure if it's Madame Butterfly...

... or the Mothman of West Virginia, but either way, she's done well to get a face-painting that matches her top.

That particular piece of body art (I'm ignoring the tattoo on her hand) was the result of a trip to a garden centre with her Grandad yesterday afternoon. At the time, Lisa and I were battling our way around Asda with Toby in a trolley, attempting to see how much money we could spend in an hour. The answer was more than we have.

It might only be mid-November, but Lisa managed to persuade her Mum and sister to club together this week and buy her a half-price Tassimo T20 coffee machine as an early Christmas present. I think it was a reaction to the Starbucks tax scandal. And the fact that she's tied to the house by screaming children, and needs an espresso to keep her going.

Unfortunately, I think it operates a bit like a video games console. And not just because I can't work out which button to press. I think they sell the machine at a knock-down price, knowing full well that you'll then spend a fortune on the coffee. Having loaded up on refills at Asda yesterday, we can no longer afford to eat. But as I said to Lisa at the checkout, caffeine's a good appetite suppressant, and if you're going to live in poverty, you might as well do it with some middle-class gadgets.

Lisa responded by pointing out that if she was still drinking, she'd be spending far more on wine, before adding that a latte at Starbucks would cost three times as much, and a lot more once you add a sweet treat. Which was her justification for the Danish pastries I found in the trolley.

It does make very good coffee though. Unfortunately we don't have space for it in the kitchen, so it's currently in the living room, where it can spend its life tempting Amelie to scald herself with boiling water.

In other news, I've had a throat infection since Thursday night, which I'm blaming on my trip to the doctor's on Wednesday. I've spent the past two days unable to swallow much more than my pride, and as of this morning, I have the voice of Clint Eastwood and an addiction to Lem-Sip.

It would be ironic if I couldn't go into work tomorrow, as I've spent part of my weekend doing unpaid work at home, writing some stuff for the department's new website. I also need to get Amelie's bike out of those bin liners and give it a thoroughly good clean while she's out of the house with her grandparents. I plan to paint it with Superglue to stop it falling apart. That's in addition to all the other jobs I need to get done, such as cooking, cleaning, and making coffee. Frankly I barely have time to write this. So I don't think I can fit in an illness.