Eleanor had a day home from school yesterday. Feeling very lethargic and unwell she managed to convince me that a day at home to rest and a recover was in order. I get days like that too. Not ill or unwell, but just drained and out of energy and in need of a day of nothing. I understood where she was coming from. She was hard to wake, tearful and lacking motivation to do anything, whereas usually she's up and bustling around, eager to get to school and see her friends.
But as soon as she's down, she's up again. Within 3 hours of being home, around lunchtime, she mustered up enough energy to eat her numberetti (spaghetti hoops made with numbers - I'm moving on from hoops as I deem numbers more fun). But not only was numberetti cheering Eleanor up, it turned out to be a great cure for Monkey.
Monkey is Sam's cuddly toy bought from Monkey World on holiday this year. I enquired as to why Monkey was on the table covered in toilet roll, only to discover that Eleanor was his vet and Sam, the very concerned owner, had brought him to her for an operation. Further investigations led to finding out that Monkey had suffered a very severe heart attack earlier that day and only had two hours to live. But no matter how critical Monkey's condition was, he was well enough to hold on to the last portion of his life, while vet and owner stopped for numberetti.
Toilet paper turned out to be bandages. At this point I'm trying so hard to stifle the laughter and show genuine concern for Monkey's plight only to nearly bust a gut holding in my giggles when the answer to my question, 'Why does Monkey have a hairband round his mouth?', was met with the very dry tutted response from Eleanor of, 'It will stop him screaming when I put the injection in'.
Monkey's op was successful. He went to bed last night with a headache. It think that's the least of his worries.