I'm not sure what I was thinking at 7am this morning when I decided to make a gingerbread house and take it to playgroup at 10am. Probably something like, "gawd I'm tired and would love to go back to bed," or perhaps "a gingerbread house in two and a half hours - easy".
I believe that's what they call hubris or maybe stupidity.
As it turned out I managed to assemble the house (as long as it was propped up).
On the way a wall fell down but I was confident that I could fix that. As we arrived at playgroup the whole house collapsed in on itself like a black hole and Jack started to cry (it was a very sad sight). And so I walked into playgroup for the christmas party carrying this...
On the upside Jack got his face painted , but didn't want to pose for a photo.
Santa turned up in sandals (it's hot today)
and Jack scored a present...