This may sound OTT but if you gave me the choice right now between doing PR for the Murdoch's or spending another couple of hours in a soft play centre, I'd be dusting off my media law books.
Today I was due to meet up with some very good old friends. We all have young children and our original plans were scuppered by the monsoon that was pelting down outside. We collectively decided we were brave enough to face soft play (one for all and all that...) and so it began. It seemed as though there were hundreds of mini-dudes racing around this place. And whilst it was lovely to see everyone, I'm not sure we spoke more than a few sentences to each other, choosing instead to spend our time squirming through playnets with holes in them that really weren't made for adults and hoping like hell that having squeezed our bums into the slides we could manage to pull them out again.
After just two hours I felt like I'd been dragged through a hedge backwards and was in need of a very large glass of wine.
Next time, we'll meet at someone's house. Or better still. We'll leave the children behind and meet in a bar!