We’re going to build an extension. It’ll be fab, all new and tidy.
It all started with a bit of bog envy. We really need a downstairs cludgy. There are four of us and some how we all seem to want to go at once and some of us take ages. And.. it would be so nice not to share facilities with three boys.
So when K and I got married last October we asked everyone to help us pay for a lovely shiny new lavvy in the cupbourd under the stairs. Right here in fact.
No, I don’t blog in the bog. That plan changed with yet another attempt at work-life-balance and me flinging myself into freelancing.
So H Potter was evicted from the cupboard under the stairs and I moved in.
Now I quite like it here and the Fabulous News and Copy Agency is going swimmingly, but it is a tad on the cosy side and the problem of the puddlesome piddlers and ponderous pooing still remain.
New plan. Let’s turn the garage into a deluxe new home for the FNCA with ensuite dodah. Hurrah. Easy peasy.
A builder chap who lives up the road as been to have a look and he reckons it’s not such a big job – not once all the garbage in the garage has been hoofed anyway.
He said he’d get his mate the architect to call and he can draw us up some super plans…
Great
Yeah
Well that was last week and I tried to call the builderchapwholivesuptheroad and the number isn’t recognised.
Oh well.