Gah. I have a bad nick in my neck from sleeping awkwardly (translation: fell asleep in a kitchen chair after late supper until Will came home at around 2AM and woke me up, and didn’t ensure the pillow was positioned right when I was in Slumberland).
So he took the mites to Little Angel Theatre for a puppet show of Goldilocks this morning and they will then go to JR’s place for lunch and whatever while I remain at home where we all know I’ll whine to self about the nick and being left behind. 
No, seriously – Sundays are for Will to spend time with the mites alone because he’s so often away on a work trip. Plus, it can make a great break for me from the mites.
Saturdays are a family day, which usually involves me and Will debating where we should go while the mites wait patiently. This conversation happened yesterday:
Me: We could go to the Museum of Childhood? They have a toy exhibition at the moment. Or the Cartoon Museum? Oh, oh! How about that toy museum off Tottenham Street? The one near Goodge Street tube? I haven’t been. Have you?
Him: Nope. Science Museum.
Me: How about Valentine Mansion? It’d be fun.
Him: Too far. Science Museum.
Me: I’d be bored out of my mind.
Him: It’s not about you.
Me: How can you say that? I know they feel the same.
Him: Hey, mites. Want to see sea dinosaurs? (*mites stare*) Flying machines? (*makes flying noises*) (*mites stare*) Robots! (*sticks his arms out and rocks in chair, as if he’s a robot with a limp*) (in HAL9000 voice) I’m sorry, Dave, but I’m afraid I can’t do that… (*mites stare*) Yeah? (*mites stare*) (*a small snigger from me*) Mmm… Want to see kung fu monsters? Yeah? KUNG FU MONSTERS!
Mites: KUNG FU! KUNG FU! KUNG FU!
Me (to Will): That’s so low of you.
Mites: KUNG FU! KUNG FU! KUNG FU!
Him: *smirks*
Oldest (singing at top volume): MAH-HA GO! GO! GO! KA-ZE MO FU-RU-E-RU HE-AH-PI-NEE KAU-BO! KO-WA-I-MO-NO-KA-TO GO! GO! GO!*
Me: So obnoxious. I’m staying home.
Him: (*mimics a chicken clucking*)
*From the old Speed Racer theme: “Mach Go! Go! Go! The screaming wind and the speedy hairpin curve! So scary and thrilling, Go! Go! Go!” Note: “Go” is ‘five’, so the character’s name is Mach 5. I didn’t know this until two years ago when, after giving me a considerably long stare, the mite patiently explained what ‘go’ was. I still can’t believe how utterly stupid a four-year-old had managed to make me feel.
Anyroad, that’s not what I wanted to talk about. I came here to share my opinion on the fuss over the William Morris Morrow letter. I’ll post this anyway, and create a new post about the obligations and expectations attached to an ARC. Hm. I’ll have a quick sandwich while I’m at it.