Les pompiers

I pleasingly walked into a Dolce & Gabanna ad around the corner from my apartment today. Yup. Only in Paris do the pompiers (firemen) workout in full view of their street audience, smugly flexing toned muscles on the gymnast bars like their life depends on it. My daydream was cruelly shattered not just when crazy son pulled up my skirt but also when one of said hotties stuffed his hand down his shorts for a good old rummage. Again, in full public view. So wrong. 

The Summer holidays are well and truly underway and I'm already out of gin and have hidden all sharp knives in the apartment. And that's just for me. I'm embracing hideously stressed shouty mum with vigour. My inner domestic goddess seems a lifetime away. Who am I kidding? Hell, she didn't even exist in picture book English countryside.