Nigella and the tooth fairy

Stigmum's day is blighted! She wanted to post her little queries about Dave's speech but nope, Nigella and the tooth fairy has determined she take a break and read the day's papers (I had to pop out and buy some bread and milk and treated her and myself to the Guardian and the Sun. The Times I get online. I should really get on my bike and score some electricity or my world will definitely be dark by Sunday)

Stigmum should not be knackered. Like a true Desperate Housewife, I, we had the cake in the oven by 9, set the alarm for 10 to 10 and settled down to watch Criminal Justice (I've been missing this! It's so good!)

The cake comes out of the oven slightly burnt but nothing the icing won't cover and she and I put it on the rack to cool. We tussle with the remote between the news and Eastenders (there's something slightly compelling about watching Stacey Slater go mad, there's something very "Don't Look Now" about the girl in the red coat) then turn the cake out to "cool completely"(always frightening, the first time I made Nigella's cake for the school, one half projected from the tin and dived behind the back of the oven so the recipe now has the 'half measurements' should this ever happen again).

We settled down to watch Question Time, always a blast, never more so than last night with Ian Hislop, Yvette Cooper and George Osborne.

We started to watch This Week, thinking it would be interesting to hear what Amelia Fox had to say about class when I suddenly woke up. Half past 12! Half past flipping 12 and I've got to make and ice the sodding cake!

An hour later, icing and chocolate stuck fast to the floor (for that is where I must make the cake in my little galley kitchen) I think ah, at last, bed!

I climb in, nestle my head against the pillow.

"Mummy? Mummy? My tooth's fallen out."

Oh fuck. "Ok, it's ok, give it to me."

"Will the tooth fairy come?"

"I don't know darling, it's really late, it's the middle of the night." (Aaaargh)

I run to the bathroom to see what change I've got in my jeans, race to the kitchen to put the tooth in foil (don't ask) and the money in another bit of foil then go back to the room where my son is Wide Awake. I put the tooth under his pillow, where he immediately reaches to touch it, then lie back in bed and wait, wait and wait for his breathing to indicate that he is faaaaaaaaaaast asleep.

The perks of going to bed at quarter to three is that last night, I didn't wake up at that time, which is small mercy, must say.

My son was delighted this morning and bless the little boy, he arranged the smarties on the cake while I cleared last night's carnage.

We shall go back to reading the papers, even though my eyes are stinging. It's important I know what's going to happen to my life, or that's what Stigmum's telling me anyway.

Ave Maria (Priests)