Last night I was lying on the couch wondering whether all this television I'm watching, is even more responsible for my brain shrinkage than the stresses and strains of motherhood.
So, I've decided to do an evening class.
I'd actually thought about it in the past but the couch had always waylaid me. But last night, I talked about it with the boy and he thought it was a great idea. It would be less scary than committing to a full-on course of formal study, but better for my mind than watching The Biggest Loser week after week.
There's a slight problem in that it's too late to enrol in most evening classes, and many of them start too early in the evening for the parent-tag to take place. Still, I could always go to life drawing in the meantime.
I'd just have to hide my stick-figure drawings until my ability gets back to a reasonable standard...