A phone call from the King

I was very surprised I must say when the King called yesterday afternoon just before I was going to pick up the nipper from after school club.

I was very surprised that he was very pleasant on the telephone, so used am I to hearing I'm "no different" from anyone else or the contradictory "others have greater needs."

He just wanted to note down my details again, name, address, postcode. Then he asked for a little bit of history.

It's a good job I don't fancy the man because I don't enjoy telling men that I suffer from "recurring depression with psychotic tendancies" (though it's an excellent card to play if you are on a bad date or, I imagine, at an interview for a job you don't want, which hasn't happened to me yet...)

I mentioned the flats he heard about when he came to the resident's meeting. "No-one accepted them!" My son, Zat bike, my son, Zat bike. "It's not an ideal place to bring up a child what with the crime but..."

He said he would see what he could do. Result!!

Later his boss was on the news, which has focused on LibDem plans to tax those that live in houses worth more than £1 million. The owners of these Palaces are not happy. The reports have not said that the money could go to repairing empty properties instead of auctioning off much needed council flats. It's a no brainer to me.... Who is going to be the Robin Hood of political parties?

I really must be careful what I say. Or should I be careful what I say? Hmmmm.