Lovely afternoon with GrandDaughter1. Went to Next (including Paperchase and Costa) where I treated her to two dresses, a gratitude diary, and hot chocolate and millionaire's shortbread.
We discussed - or rather she told me all about - the plot of the new Peter Rabbit film, our worst dreams, and our favourite numbers and letters amongst other things. She said at the end of Peter Rabbit she couldn't decide if her tears were of happiness or sadness.
I told her that I'd been really cross with Granddad when I woke up this morning because he booked us into an apartment in Holland and when we got there the kitchen was full of porridgey dishes, there were some strange mice and a cat covered in fleas. She said that quite often things that we think about during the day come up in our dreams but she took my word for it that, as far as I could remember, I hadn't been thinking about flea-ridden cats or porridge the day before.
Incidentally things went from bad to worse as far as Husband was concerned this morning. Not content with upsetting me in my dream he continued as follows.
I said, 'I thought we could go out to eat tonight.'
He said, 'Your diet's gone to pot recently. Where do you want to go?'
I stared at him. 'I don't want to go any more.'