Thursday morning it took about 45 minutes for Dane and I to get ourselves and the kids ready to head out the door. We (that's Dane and I, not the kids) spent that entire time talking about how we would cast a live action movie of Fireman Sam. We sourced the cast of Battlestar Galactica and Doctor Who pretty heavily, but also threw in a fair number of A-list actors. As if 45 minutes of brain power wasn't enough to devote to this, I spent my entire drive to work wondering if George Clooney really would make a better Station Officer Steele than Sean Connery, if Jake Gyllenhal or John Barrowman could do the slap stick bits that would be necessary to play Elvis Cridlington, and if there was a way to shoehorn David Tennant into the cast without being too obvious about it. I also finally decided that Catherine Tate would be an awesome Dilys.
This is a long way of saying that everyone in our house is watching too much TV, because the office and the computers are now in the kitchen. It may ultimately be worth renovating the attic just to move them. Imagine what might happen if I devoted as much brain power to my job as I apparently devote to British television . . .
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