They're taking my daughter to Isengard...

Logic dictates that my daughter is a guinea-pig.

Every guinea-pig that we have ever had in our household has urinated on me, but never on Kaz. This is a trait that is also possessed by Eleanor. Consequently, my daughter is a guinea-pig. (Those cute little warbling trill noises she makes that I love so much? Perhaps not Mogwai speech but guinea-pig wheeping.)

Meanwhile, I am a hobbit.

Eleanor still tends to wake once in the night (usually refusing to settle for 2 hours after). Last night, as I was looking after her, I had some breakfast in the middle of the night to keep myself going. Subsequently, I was hungry at around 7.30am and found myself having "second breakfast". Of course, no sooner had I realised that I was a hobbit then the melodious stylings of Erwin Beekveld took up residence in my mind and wouldn't leave.

A more coherent and informative entry will follow in due course.

( In other news: This is what Sunday morning in the Williams household looks like. )