Having now fully settled back in at work, I have books to mark, planning to create and the eternal obligation to spend at least 30% of my life carping on about how hard it is being a teacher ("we don't clock off at 3.30pm you know", etc, etc). So most weekday evenings, when I'm not playing a game called "Where The Bloody Hell Are These Flies Still Coming From?", I pretend I'm doing something worthwhile with bits of paper. Consequently, our beautiful little Poop isn't getting much of a look in.
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