Did you know there's a patron saint of small businesses? Neither did I until about 20 minutes ago.
Days like today make me think that St Homobonus (for it is he) knows about me though. They make me wonder if he knows my views on religion, knows just how much I laugh at Father Ted, and is trying to make a point. The ecclesiastical equivalent of a brick through the window.
Lets just say I'm getting a bit cheesed off with the economy and its effect on my customers.
But things brightened up considerably this evening. The Boy Wonder and I went swimming. There were many moments of joy, including his enthusiastic monologue on the culture and tribal customs of the Aborigine people as we were getting dressed afterwards. He waited until we were in the communal part of the changing rooms and then demonstrated his interpretation of their tribal dances.
Now to be fair I'm no expert on such things, but all I can say is that if his display was even close to accurate I'm surprised that the whole Aborigine nation isn't up in court on indecency charges. There was rather too much wild gyration for my liking, or for the most of the mothers in the changing rooms for that matter.
After I'd placated Hermione and her mum, we headed off to the chippy and sat and ate chips in the car. We chatted happily about everything and nothing, before heading home.
Around 9ish I heard him calling. He stood at the top of the stairs and told me, in earnest tones, that I should have an early night if I didn't want to get fat.
So there you go. It's not the cake that causes the problem, it's staying up to watch Paxman on Newsnight. I just hope that Weightwatchers Ltd is on the right side of St Homobonus. I predict tough trading when the news gets out.