Dipso, Fatso

Here's the boy at The Bank of England club. He has a goal scored on him during his morning match, and feels rotten only made worse by the sideline who cheers for the scoring kid. Eitan comes off the pitch dejected and tells me "I'm rubbish at goal." Poor guy. Madeleine begins her morning at swim team, then football and finally performance class. She's the energizer bunny and I have to tell the kids to keep their traps shut so Sonnet and I can have an afternoon nap. I'm recovering from my busy last week, which took me to Dublin, Munich, Zurich and Paris. I think it was productive but time will tell. Otherwise this weekend is pretty low-key and without social engagements and thank goodness.

Eitan writes a story, titled "The Dragon's Garden" about a statue that comes to life and befriends a little boy. We await the full action. When I ask Madeleine at dinner if she has a story too, she pauses and then: "well, it is in my head dad." Encouraged to disclose her secret, she describes a girl, who has a watch on her wrist and when twisted, she ends up in somebody else's bed. And she's a boy.... and has a willy. She (or he) longs to see her mother. Then her dead grandmother appears and tells her to take the watch off... but failing this they go to heaven together, where the little girl (or boy?) is given another chance so she goes to the doctor who cuts open her head and takes out her brains and replaces them with the brains of the girl (or boy) in her bed. "there's lots of blood" says Madeleine, matter-of-factly.

Apparently Britain, as a Britain-pride-boosting exercise, is debating a logo. You know, something like a "statement of values" defining what it means to be us - a Declaration of Independence of sorts. My favorite suggestion from the general public is: "Dipso, Fatso, Bingo, Asbo, Tesco" (Asbo stands for "anti-scoial behavior order while Tesco is the ubiquitous supermarket chain). Perfect.