In a dentist's waiting room, nobody hears a scream

Having remembered it was our wedding anniversary, I was allowed to go out early morning and undertake the dental appointment into which I had been pressganged (how can you say “no” when the dentist who is telling you to do it has her fist in your mouth?) and which promised to at least be a couple of hours away from the computer screen. When I go there, the dentist tried her usual opening gambit (“99.9% of patients don’t need any anaesthetic for this type of filling”) – to which I gave my usual response (“look at my file – top line, above the photo, it says ‘COWARD’ – ALWAYS USE ANAESTHETIC”) and so ended up with a mouth so numb that when I talked, I bumbled along sounding like Boris Johnson. But at least I felt no pain. The pain I inflicted by sounding like Boris Johnson I cannot be held accountable for.
 
Home and, unsurprisingly, I didn’t feel like doing any work, so I took Ottawacker Jr. down to the park and did some football training with him for 45 minutes, It was another glorious day, so we collapsed in front of the Euros for half an hour, had some breakfast, and then did some work. Around noon, Ottawacker Jr. was serendipitously invited for a swim and a sleepover at a friend’s house, so I dropped him off at 4 and then tried to figure out what two people should do to celebrate their wedding anniversary when they have just been given an evening free out of the blue.
 
In the end, we went for a drive and had an ice cream. Who said I don’t know how to treat people right?