Friday 25 January 2013

Day One Hundred and Ninety Two

Not a good day. A very breakful day.

Last night Craig's car would not go. He was very sad.

Emmet did not go to his university today. He has a sore throat and a sick tummy and his arms hurt. Oh well.

Craig's car was ok this morning. I think the dog with the white tail did it. It is a mystery. That is what they always say in Ireland Zita says.

Niamh's phone fell and broke. She is very sad. It was a nice phone. It was red.

I dropped my Red Ball and it went all the way down the scary stairs. I did not want to go down to get it. Emmet was asleep. He is sick.

He came upstairs to get Zita to open his banana. Craig laughed at him. Craig said he should use a sword. That is not nice. He is sick. Swords are heavy.

We only went for a short walk. The ice gets in my paws and hurts. Too bad for me. Oh well.

It is Pretend to be a Scotsman Day Craig said. We do not have to eat sheep's tummys. We will have pasta instead. We are Italian-Scotsmen Zita says.

Tomorrow will be better. It is known.


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