Saturday, 15th November 2014

I'm watching World War Z as I write this, so I might be a bit distracted from my usual high standards. We got it for cheap from the supermarket. No idea if it's any good. So far, it mainly consists of Bradley Pitts ignoring ominous helicopters while he talks about pets. Sorry. Where was I?

Now something's blown up and there's some very inconsiderate driving going on. There are lots of bitey lunatics everywhere, but it's quite entertaining actually. Basically, it's like watching Luis Suarez.

Sorry. This morning looked like turning into one of those days that just fizzle away into pointlessness.

They're looting now. Shameless.

We planned at first to get out and do something interesting. But the relentless rain dampened (!) our spirits, so we ummed and ahhed and prodded half-heartedly at chores which really needed more attention than I was prepared to give them until, eventually, I was booted up and ready to get out the door, en route to Chislehurst Caves. But then we realised that we'd need to eat lunch out if we left at that point and we couldn't really afford that, so I took off my shoes and we stayed at home for a bit longer.

Turns out their New Jersey tower block haven is crawling with the Suarez creatures. Pitt's standing on the edge of the roof now. He's totally lost it. Oh no he hasn't: there's a helicopter. How fortuitous.

I struggled to understand or suppress the frustrated rage I was feeling at that stage. But then my wife invoked the astonishing powers she uses on an almost daily basis to create entertainment, calm and joy from nothing. Out came the crafting stuff and, in no time, our daughters had created some rather magnificent foam snowmen on the back window. Christmas cards, dripping with glitter glue, and home-made Santa heads soon followed and, by the time my wife had spontaneously invented an impossibly thrilling game of Guess the Mystery Object in the Big Box Full of Beans and Pulses While Blindfolded, I think we had all tacitly rejected our earlier plans. Sorry Chislehurst Caves: you're less appealing than some beans in a box.

I think Brad Pitt just called nature a bitch. Go Brad.

We filled the rest of the afternoon effortlessly, with a viewing of The Nightmare Before Christmas, some more crafting, a trip to the library (which far exceeded my expectations), and even found time to collaborate on what turned out to be a delicious lemon drizzle cake. I'm truly glad we stayed at home today.

I'm sorry, but the film's winning the battle for my attention, so I'll leave it there. The scientist who was going to sort everything out just slipped over and shot himself in the face.

I will just say this: Brad Pitt needs a big gun to save the day. All my wife requires is some foam and a box of beans.