Today, for the first time in ages, Sonny went into GOSH to start chemo under his own steam. Normally, he's being crammed full of antibiotics or stabbed with injections to get his counts up so it was a real treat to have a nice breakfast and pootle over for 11ish. On arrival, there was no bed in his room so the kids put on an impromptu performance of System of a Down medleys.
As it was so calm and going like clockwork, I decided to take Ruby up West for a bit of retail therapy but, with wiry girls battling for the last pairs of £4 ballet pumps, Topshop was like a UN post for flood victims. We did manage to get out, but only after I'd thrown handfuls of flourescent green sunglasses and stripy leg-warmers in front of us to create a safe passage.
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