Bend it like Noddie

During our recent somewhat traumatic week at the eisteddfodau, during which we came to the conclusion that not only would Noddie no longer dance with her Idon'tthinkferalistoostrongaword duo partner, but also that we would remove her from the dance school altogether and take her to one in another town - blatant favouritism disgusts me, AND I know the difference between 'tough love' and actual damaging ABUSE even if her teacher doesn't don'tgetmestartedthewomanisafuckingmenace - Noddie and I began a routine of daily stretching together. By 'stretching together', do picture a lithe 12yo dancer blithely impersonating our green friend above, and by her side her creaky overweight middle-aged mum bitching about the pain, the pain..... but we do it nearly every day, and it's sort of fun.  It's certainly doing me good. It's probably some kind of bonding thing too, and you're meant to do that with your kids, I hear.
My next post may be a reflection on how my darling Bulldogs' Grand final win will change my life. How does one approach living when chronic disappointment and existential pessimism is no longer a valid world-view??

 More anon, woof woof woofers!!