Counting bridges

I came across Tess' to do list this morning. Seeing her first venture into the world of prioritising, captured in glorious technicolour, made me feel inexplicably warm and fuzzy inside. But anxious too. She's stumbled into the adult world of worry, where the lists might control you, rather than you controlling the lists. Or maybe she's just more organised than her Ma.

Later on the train, Edinburgh bound and after getting over the first world problem of no catering trolley on a three hour journey (the horror! the horror!), I worked through my own list of (t)asks.

I don't know why so many of us become suckers for writing and rewriting a list or two, perhaps it's to give us the illusion of control over the great unknown.

I found one household member tonight sorely put upon by the day's events and in need of distraction. So despite a disastrous faulty towers style hunter-gathering road trip, we finally got a takeaway in and settled in to watch Parks and Recreation with a few episodes of Veep for pudding.