Diary: Refunded Robbie Tickets? 31st May 2017

I have been in such a brain fug today. I wouldn’t say I’ve been particularly tired, I actually slept really well last night. I’ve just been seriously dopey. Dopey to the point where I’ve actually annoyed myself.

Turns out no refunds are being given on Robbie tickets so it looks like I will have to try to sell them. It also turns out that if you want an answer from Ticketmaster it helps to @bbcwatchdog and @livenation in your tweet. Why they can’t just issue a statement to this effect is beyond me. I wish I could go. I wish I could be brave and put the events in Manchester out of my mind, but I can’t. I know I wouldn’t relax and I’d never forgive myself if something did happen to me, not that I would probably know about it, but you know what I mean.

Elliott was in the garden when I went to collect him from nursery. He was so happy splashing away in some mucky water with a couple of plastic tennis bats with one of his little female friends. The room has been really quiet today with only him and one other child in this afternoon, so he’s been much more chatty. He’s just like his mummy and daddy – fine in small groups but give us a crowd and we’re shrinking violets who don’t have the extrovert nature to fight for our air time.

On the way out of nursery a little lad followed us to the gate (Elliott was in the garden) and tried to escape with us! I was having to shove the walker he was trying to wedge in the gate backwards so he couldn’t get out! In the end I had to let Elliott run off into the church hall whilst I dealt with this runaway child. I obviously didn’t want Elliott to hurt himself but I didn’t want someone elses kid to escape on my watch. Luckily the sight of Elliott running into the hall was enough to distract the older child and I podged the walker out of the way, slammed the gate, quickly locked it and ran into the hall after Elliott.

Tonight was shopping night, brought forward a night because I have tomorrow off to work on some projects and didn’t want to have the ‘big shop’ hanging over me. Another sub Ā£50 weekly shop. Whoop-a-doop-and-indeed-doop!



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