New rule:

Only people named Sally shall be invited to read my blog.

It is a fine name and should be celebrated because it means all these things:

sal·ly / [sal-ee]
-noun
1. a sortie of troops from a besieged place upon an enemy.
2. a sudden rushing forth or activity.
3. an excursion or trip, usually off the main course.
4. an outburst or flight of passion, fancy, etc.: a sally of anger.
5. a clever, witty, or fanciful remark.
6. Carpentry. a projection, as of the end of a rafter beyond the notch by which the rafter is fitted over the wall plate.

–verb (used without object)
7. to make a sally, as a body of troops from a besieged place.
8. to set out on a side trip or excursion.
9. to set out briskly or energetically.
10. (of things) to issue forth.

My name on the other hand would mean nothing at all were it to be popped into the middle of a sentence.

Cruelty of Youth

I've just heard from a colleague whose (presumably unhappily) single friend was emotionally floored by her 8 year old niece who sweetly enquired 'How come you never have a boyfriend?'

It put me in mind of a comparable occasion when I was doing my level best to play with my friend's 4 year old girl. I'm not good at playing, unless it involves sitting on the floor, drinking champagne and playing the Mr & Mrs board game with equally drunken friends. I can't even hold my own with reading a storybook. The child on the receiving end of my spoken word book narration tends to stare at me open-mouthed for reading the words in the book out loud, which I thought was the general idea. Apparently you're supposed to practically act the bloody thing out, with frequent 'engaging' interjections of pointing at a picture and asking what it is in a high-pitched sing-song voice. If I wanted to look like a tit in front of everyone I'd have done Drama Studies at college and would now be working for a school education drama group in manner of Legz Akimbo.

So before I wander off on a rant about the way people speak to young children with an entire vocabulary of crap otherwise never used in the English language (there's nothing like teaching by example), I'll get to the point.

I had bought aforementioned delightful 4 year old a book about a ballet-dancing mouse who was rehearsing to put a show on for friends and family (a definite candidate for Drama Studies A-level - assuming of course that rodents can a/dance ballet and b/enrol in higher education). The book contained all sorts of activities including a magic wand to decorate, a tutu to dress up in (alas, not my dress size) and some invitations to hand out for the mouse-ballet which was to be the culmination of both the story and the frenzied pirouetting in the living room.

4 year old decided to include me in the game and as I sat there waving my wand and clenching my buttocks with horror at being so far beyond my interacting-with-children comfort zone, it happened: "I'll be the Sugar Plum Fairy" she trilled "and you can be the Old Fairy".