This evening I had the thought I should possibly work on being less sarcastic.
I love sarcasm. It's hilarious and succinct - reams can be conveyed in the simple lift of an eyebrow.
But it's a cheap trick, and I do believe one needs to master a whole lot more nuance about human behaviour before you should wield it about.
Ergo, maybe I should be less sarcastic around (and, I meekly confess, to), my children. Frieda's grasp of the tone is shockingly advanced for her age, and she's been known to think I'm being sarcastic even when I'd no intention of sounding so.
But my second thought was this: each post I publish here gets minimum 35 readers. I think I know most of you.
So this place, where I used to freely address strangers, my 'blog like nobody's reading', is in fact these days like talking to my nearests and dearests.
And you all know I'll never kick sarcasm.
Maybe I should just work on my delivery instead.