Amy has woken me up the last two nights “because I’ve had a terrible nightmare and need to talk about it”. The first night was that she and her dad were in a sandcastle competition, and she won, but her dad’s sandcastle was actually better. The next night it was that she was drawing a picture and made a mistake, but couldn’t be bothered getting another bit of paper to start again.

She’s totally going to grow into one of those women I overhear saying things like “Farro had run out of red quinoa, so I had to improvise by using white quinoa in my salad instead…total NIGHTMARE.” and “All the cronuts had sold out before I got there. Literally my worst nightmare”.

(Um, actually, I may have said that second one myself)

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