You know that episode of the Flintstones where the doctor tells Fred that if he falls asleep he'll die? Yes, you do. Ok, just pretend you do for now. Anyway, Fred props his red eyes open with matchsticks, his increasingly heavy eyelids eventually snapping them. Well, that's how I feel at the moment.
My daughter has been ill for this last week. The poor little thing has a chest infection, which means she's been coughing a lot. Especially during the night. She's also passed it on to my wife, who has also spent much of the week coughing in the small hours. I've been getting a maximum of about 3 hours continuous sleep a night. Yawn. I haven't been this tired and grumpy since the little 'un was born, and we were getting up every couple of hours to feed her.
In the meantime, Blogger has added a thing to upload photos. Which is nice, and if they'd had it a few months ago I'd never have signed up to flickr. I'm glad I did though, I'm really getting in to taking random pictures of stuff from strange angles, just to post to flickr. There's a great community there, and I've learnt a couple of things about taking photos. Try it, you'll like it.
If I wasn't so tired, I'd try my hand at this competition to write the Death of Dumbledore in the style of another author. Maybe I will, once I've had a nice, long, snooze.
Oh, it turns out that the doctor got it wrong and Fred doesn't die. You were worried, I could tell.