I love Tuesdays

Today will be a day of two halves.

The first half will be about getting Maggots to school, doing some work, getting the Maggots back from football training and doing a bit more work.

The second half will be full of feeding Maggots, getting Maggots in pyjamas, getting milk for Maggots, and likely wiping the backsides of Maggots, all in pursuit of a family sit down at, oh, around seven thirty or so.  From that point on, I am not expecting, nor will I entertain, any kind of interruption or "could I just have..." moments, for at seven forty five this evening, two whistles will simultaneously blow, one in the Donbass Arena, the other in the Stadion NSK Olimpiyskiy*, and forty-four fine young men** will kick a football round trying to penetrate the net of the other team.

It has been interesting to observe this championship.  As I have mentioned previously, and in fact I was only mentioning what other finer minds had previously observed, the lead up to this championship has been something of a damp squib***.

Now that the England team have avoided defeat for two whole games, the mood in the country, I am sensing, is starting to turn.  Only starting, since there are still neither the flags nor the avid discussions in the street yet appearing, however things are, I believe, starting to turn.  Pundits, whose utterances are often ridiculed, but then you really should try to keep talking for ninety minutes on a single subject without saying at least one thing that you later regret, have even started to discuss not, as would seem sensible, our chances of winning the quarter-final against either Italy or Spain, but actually whether we can win the damn thing.  Now that is like throwing a bucket of cold water on a damp squib.  Pointless.  Nevertheless, the mood in the Scobi camp is, at least for seventy-five percent of the population, one of slightly excited optimism.  The other twenty-five percent is, as you know, yet to be convinced.

And all this is without adding in the Rooney factor.  This derives from the English disease, otherwise known as the triumph of optimism over experience.  I actually rather like the young man, and he can, when on form, be quite fun to watch.  Indeed, at his very best, he can be dynamite, and cause a chap to spill his G&T.

However you plan to spend this evening, I hope that you gain satisfaction and pleasure by ten o'clock.


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* thanks to all that is bountiful in the iTunes library, and particularly the Euro 2012 iPhone app.
** this one is very much up for debate, what with LO being part of the school of thought that some members of some teams are nothing more than thugs.
*** A squib (not squid), as I know some of you are asking, is a miniature explosive device used in a wide range of industries, from special effects to military applications, and if you don't believe me, you can read about it here.