Unfortunately I'll be on a train up to London at the time, on my way to the Royal College of Ophthalmologists. They're expecting me - I'm not burgling the place. So whilst I wouldn't miss that assembly for the world, I'll willingly give it a miss for the chance to hobnob with a few doctors. And doctor a few Hobnobs. They always have decent biscuits.
The good news is that whilst I won't be at the school in person, I've already seen the assembly. Amelie's currently touring a one-woman show around the living rooms of Brighton, performing the whole thing herself...
In reality, she only has the one line to herself, but as luck would have it, she's such a megalomaniac, she's learnt everyone else's too. It's where we get the phrase 'stealing the show'. There's every chance she'll lock all her classmates in the stationery cupboard, and take to the stage alone.
In other news, I know it's generally a bad idea to take your work home with you, but I spent this afternoon doing a clinic at the Sussex Eye Hospital, and ended up bringing one of the patients back to our flat. She's currently in my bed. Fortunately I've met her before, and I'll still respect her in the morning, as it happens to be Lisa's Mum. She had an operation on a blocked tear duct this afternoon, so I've given up my bed tonight for reasons of clinical observation. She's currently wearing an eye patch, so Toby thinks she's a pirate and keeps saying "Ha-harrrrrr!".
She's been told she mustn't sneeze for nine days, or eat any hot food, so it's cold cuts and no pepper for a week. We have to watch her for the next twenty-four hours too, just in case she tries to blow her nose without permission. I'll see how she is in the morning, and if necessary I can ask the Royal Ophthalmologists to give her call in their lunch break.