Olof’s out patrolling the mean village streets tonight with the local parent watch. They make the rounds of the local party spots, keeping an eye out for kids who might need some help. It’s cold out, so I’m expecting there won’t be much happening out there. I hope he’ll get home early, without event.

Lydia’s upstairs, eating chips and watching bad TV. Truth be told, her attention is probably focused more closely on her phone than on the television. The five thousand text messages she sends each month aren’t gonna write themselves, after all.

Tage’s spending the night with his cousins, so he’s missing out on the chips and movie that are occupying his little sisters. I imagine they’ve got something at least as good on offer over there, though, so he surely wouldn’t complain.

Me, I’m just poking around on the net, watching old episodes of The Guardian between my younger daughters’ requests for drinks of water and more chips. I do love me some Simon Baker.