Happy Easter! I thought that I’d blog today so I wasn’t finishing too long after lent. I’m writing this whilst playing a game of scrabble (second one of the day). I’ve genuinely been forbidden from leaving the room until it’s completed. Currently my dad is trying to argue that ‘onk’ is a word. According to him, it’s the noise aristocratic pigs make. Earlier, we went to church, which is what I shall be punning about today:
This game is pretty intense, organ I phrase it another way, my family are making this game more intense than it needs to be. My mum has a system where she tells us to ‘saviour best letters til last’ which is apostleble way of playing the game, but you need a lot of disciplen. I noah better way for me is to just passover my go as quickly as possible by just altaring other people’s words. My mum’s getting cross at my dad, as all this mental exorcise is exhausting hymn, and my grandma (who thinks she is pastor best but definitively isn’t) is beating us all. I’ve got sweaty psalms from the pressure and am so close to having a temple tantrum – this game israelly hard! I know that if I don’t win I’m hardly going to parish and die, but nun of my words are getting very high scores, even when my mum lent me some extra vowels. I’m also having a hard job thinking of anything more than three letters, while my grandma has revelation after revelation – she’s seriously ruthless. I’m also getting told to go spel check everything I try and put down. It’s fine because however badly this goes, I’ll be up and adam this eve when I meet my friends at the pub. Right, my Dad has found an escape route, on the premise of making everyone a cup of tea – I’m going to go and ‘help’ him while hebrews it.
Although I did not know the name of the boy who bumped his chin while playing a song in the church handbell choir, his face rang a bell.