Amelie was enjoying an early morning Maryland cookie at 7am today, as one of her recommended five-a-day portions of baked chocolate goods, when she turned to us and said "Do you know what my favourite celebration is?". It's always a big mistake to guess correctly where Amelie's concerned, which is a lesson we've learnt to our cost over the years, so Lisa played dumb and replied "No". To which Amelie responded "It's my birthday".

Now, that's all perfectly acceptable, and perhaps not that surprising, but the interesting thing is that both Lisa and I were convinced she was going to say Snickers. Or possibly Maltesers. I'm not sure what that says about us as a couple, but I'm concerned that we're more obsessed with chocolate than our children.

On the subject of misunderstandings, I heard this song on the radio for the first time this morning whilst driving up to Crawley...


... and by the end of it, I was convinced he was singing "I get to hold her, I own a Lisa". I genuinely thought I'd found a song that was written for me.

Anyhoo, as the song says, "I don't care if that's all I ever do", but sadly I have a lot of other jobs to get done at the moment. Having returned from West Sussex and given my mother-in-law a lift home with her shopping, I finally got back to our flat this evening to be greeted with the news that Amelie's got head lice. And she's only been back at school for two days. I'd barely got my coat off and I was straight back out to Asda for a lengthy discussion with the pharmacist about insecticides.

As things stand right now, it's half an hour past Amelie's bedtime, I haven't had my tea yet, and Lisa's in the bathroom scrubbing a louse with some kind of chemical. Although that's no way to refer to my daughter. I can think of better ways to spend an evening though. I'm just grateful I don't have hair.