Does anybody know how to fix a hole in the wall? I’m quite embarrassed about how this happened, considering it was me that put the hole there, rather than my reckless kids. All I was trying to do was reenact the time that I got to hug a lion when I was their age, and I kind of fell into the wall, head-first. Now I’m searching the web for a business offering plaster wall repair, while my kids laugh at me and the melon-sized hole I’ve made. It’s super embarrassing, and I wish I could just knock them all out with a forget-me-stick so that they lose all memory of this ever happening.

It was such a good story, as well, and now they won’t even let me tell the rest of it. Well, I guess I can share it on the internet through my blog. When I was six, my dad took me to the zoo in his convertible. I remember the fuzzy dice he had hanging from the rear-view mirror, baby blue in colour. At the zoo, there was a special event going on: hug the lion. My father was too scared to let me participate, but I climbed over the fence while he had his back turned and ran up to the well-mannered lion. I had to cut in front of all the other kids before getting caught, but I succeeded in hugging the lion before my father pulled me away. It was one of the best moments of my entire life.

I can’t believe that it has now been tainted by me falling into a wall. Oh well, I was thinking about getting a residential painter working in the Melbourne area to come around and paint the walls anyway. Although the damage to my home will be repaired, I can’t say the same about the damage to my heart. Will my children ever let me live this up? When my partner gets home, they are sure to share all the hilarious details.