It would be easy to think that I am going to spout off about Rupert Murdoch or Cadbury, but I am not.

Every night of the week, instead of watching TV, we play games with the children. At first it was hard. I felt like a bad parent saying “I do not like games”, which I did say quite frequently. But I have discovered over time that I love games. We play all manner of different things from balancing sticks on each other to card games, drawing to word games. We laugh a huge amount and it is a great pleasure now. I find I resent the weekend coming where the treat for the kids is to watch films.

But a new flavour entered the arena this week; Monopoly. Initially we were playing with a Mickey Mouse cardboard one in Arabic. Louis was the banker (of course) and the money was all in millions. It was funny and silly and I immediately ordered a “proper one” . It came indecently fast and I should have known there and then that it was bringing something else into the room.

Have you ever heard the adage “if you want to know how spiritual you are spend time with your family”?
Well I have rewritten it; If you want to know how spiritual you are, play Monopoly”.

Arghhh! It was a nightmare! I was shocked and horrified by how appalling I was! Arghhh! Again and again.
I was sitting there telling myself to have a sense of humour. I was angry, jealous, mean, grabbing, furious….. the list goes on and on. Oh, God, how horrid I am!

I am sure we will be playing again soon and I am sure I will not get any better as a human being, I just might buy all the Train stations immediately now I know how much rent you get if someone lands on them.

On a lighter note, 35 samples of clothing for the summer have come from India and all are great. Phew. So much hard work with a big reward at the end. It is so nice to see the quality of the stitching and how the colours have all worked. The actual clothes arrive at the end of next week.

I was on the telly this week, on Dawn get s a baby on Channel 3 for the BBC. I said pussy on camera. I was not describing a cat. I was thrilled it was aired, the word, and so was my delightful niece. The program was good, too, and can be seen on the BBC website. I think it might be my Warholesque 15 minutes of fame. Well, that and Good Housekeeping. I don’t really think I I should say both things, pussy and Good House Keeping, in the same breath or the same sentence. Some kind of thunderbolt is bound to follow. That may turn out to be my second 15 minutes of fame. “Shop Keeper Frazzled in Balham” I can see it now.