Washing your hair is a straightforward operation, but as I discovered the other day, my bathroom contains a stupid amount of the product required to do it - shampoo. My wife has clearly defined structures for the use of shampoo, which I find quite bizarre. J is 2 1/2 so he has no tears shampoo. C is 5 and has graduated to grown up shampoo, a fact he is very proud of. He and I are allocated the same shampoo and shower gel which disappears at an alarming rate as every time C has a shower he makes wizards potions. A has her own shampoo, shower creams and bath goo, which we are all banned from using. C has been very restrained in not nicking them as I know he feels that Mum's exotic bathroom collection would make particularly potent potions. Her latest shampoo and conditioner is ( I think) hazlenut and henna, and she is welcome to it. I wouldn't wash a dog with it. It looks like blended cat shit and has a bloody odd constiuency. Our smallest cat eyes it up with a look of recognition. Strange.

So glad I took C to Castle Grim for his first outing and we gotted stuffed at home by Leeds. If we don't qualify for next years Heineken cup I will be seriously pissed off. I need my annual jolly to France for the ritual eating of snails and drowning in a vat of red wine.

The election is as boring as watching Rob Andrew in his prime. At least that tosser Blair got a going over from Paxo the other night