Funny.

We laugh a lot at the House Of Sackville. Frequently we laugh because really funny things happen. Even more frequently we laugh because, well, if we didn't, we'd cry.

Here are three of my big laughs this week:

1. The Name

Gab The Tattooed Babysitter has been with us for a long time, and is now an integral part of our family. We decided that, as an Honorary Sackville, it was time for Gab to also become an Honorary Jew, which in turn meant that she would have to be given a Hebrew name. (Every Jewish person has a Hebrew name in addition to their regular name. Mine, for the record, is Devorah. Please do not speak of it.)

I Googled 'Hebrew Girl's names' to find a name suitable for my darling Gab. There was Gavrielle (too obvious), Jordana (too common) and Tova (means 'good' so not appropriate for my badass babysitter). None worked.

And then, there it was. The perfect name. It means 'Melody', which is delightful. Strangely, it is no longer very popular in Israel, but I can't for the life of me see why. The name is 'Mangina'. And from now on, that is what Gab shall be called.

2. The Glasses
As many of you will know, I recently got glasses for reading, because I am 150 years old and falling apart. The other night I kissed Boo goodnight, went upstairs to work, looked for my glasses, and realised I had lost them already. It had been five days. It was ridiculous. I couldn't believe it.

I stomped around, searching for them everywhere, getting angrier by the second. Under the bed, on my desk, in the kitchen, on my head... they were NOWHERE. The Architect arrived home and asked me what I was doing.

"Shut up," I said.

"I'll go kiss Boo goodnight," he replied.

Five minutes later he called, to my great irritation.

"Kerri, Boo isn't asleep yet, and she wants you to come down."

"I'm BUSY," I said. "I'm looking for my glasses."

"Just go down to her," he told me. "Find your glasses afterwards."

I glared at him (I don't need glasses to glare) and trudged down the stairs.

"What is it?" I asked Boo crossly, as I entered her room.

"Hello Mummy!" she said cheekily. And there she was, sitting up in bed, looking adorable.

Wearing my glasses.

3. The Truck Driver

As I was filling up my car with fuel, a huge, tattooed truckie was almost run down by a female driver as she was reversing.

The truckie starting yelling in rage, waving his tattooed fists and hurling abuse.

But what did he scream?

"You idiotic bitch"? "You dumb fuck"? "You careless, worthless ho"???

No.

"Stupidhead!" he cried with passion, and charged back to his truck.

It was a fine moment for profanities. And another magnificent day for me.