Last night’s blog, Readers, was designed to provoke a response from some of you. It is never good to be a passive reader, and one really ought to engage with the material in front of one, so I added a frisson of controversy last night to see if anyone was awake. It works for Donald Trump.
It was the suggestion that people who live in the North of our fine country sit out on their front doorsteps drinking mugs of tea. Now, several of my Readers come from beyond the Watford Gap, so I was interested in who would be appalled by this out-dated and inaccurate stereotype. Sure enough, Colleague 1 was straight onto Whatsapp to register his outrage, even before the ink was dry! I knew he would be. Well done Colleague 1. At least someone was listening.
Anyway, enough of my little games. I’ve had a splendid day, actually, as I went to dear, dear Pippa’s for daycare. But guess what?! I had a little fun before I left home! It was absolute chaos here this morning, Readers – Lad was late for the bus, then when he realised he’d missed it, he also discovered that he’d left his bus pass at home. Poor Lad. He had to walk all the way back home, saying some inappropriate things, and then found he had forgotten his key so couldn’t get in. There was a lot more bad language, and poor Lad had to traipse round all the neighbours until he found someone with a spare key. Once Lad eventually got indoors, I was proud to display the contents of the bathroom bin and his bedroom bin, all over the landing. This cheered him up a lot.
Lad cleared up the mess and set off for school for the second time. You can imagine his mood.
Then I simply went to the bin in the downstairs toilet and emptied that one instead, chewing things up and spitting them out on the carpet. When Pippa’s Pack Leader came to get me for daycare, she found the mess. It was a laugh. And to be frank, I had been given my Kong at 7.30am with a leftover roast potato mashed right down the bottom of it, so I felt some protest was in order. Really, it was most annoying trying to get the ruddy squashed potato flesh out of this silly rubber ball thing.
Well, tonight Readers I am lying upside down in my chair beautifully relaxed. The same can’t be said for everyone else. Lad had another of his many dreary hospital appointments today – I know, it bores me to death too – at the Important Place in London. Do you remember last week, Friends? When he showed a clear disregard for punctuality and therefore they had to wait over two hours to be seen at that one? Well, Lad excelled himself again today, by strolling slowly into the station (the pre-arranged meeting place) a mere 30 minutes after the pre-arranged time. Thus two trains had been missed and Lad was greeted with an icy stare. Poor Lad. It is a well-known fact that people of Lad’s age have difficulty with speed and coordination. There was no need for the screechy lecture he received on Platform One.
As it was, they were only 15 minutes late for Lad’s appointment due to a breakneck dash through Holborn and refusal to acknowledge the red man at pelican crossings. This was good, as She and Lad then only had to sit in the cramped corridor for two and a half hours. I’m sure it was absolutely lovely.
So there is a certain amount of sullenness here this evening. You get used to it after a while.
Well, as I had predicted She was too bldy tired to bldy cook after a stressful dash to Central London, so Sparks Means Marks did indeed come up trumps. Thankfully, Lad chose his usual four cheese ravioli as Lad knows I love that plastic tray, whilst He and Young Lad were bought macaroni cheese. She splashed out on a king prawn linguine as there had been no food consumed since breakfast and “sod the calories” was declared. So I have had a lovely time cleaning out all these plastic trays. You really do get a better standard of fat and salt-laden ready meal from Sparks Means Marks.
Poor Young Lad had to walk all the way home from school today, and be a latchkey kid again. I was still at Pippa’s for daycare, so wasn’t even there to keep him company on the Xbox. I know he would have enjoyed that.
You’ll be glad to know that I had a better night’s sleep, Readers, thank you for asking. I only needed one comfort break in the night – at 2.30am – and then managed to hold it until She got up at 6am. Was this appreciated? Of course not.
I’m trying not to laugh as I type this part – remember the conker collecting the other day? Well, such is the shoddy attitude to finishing a job here, that the conkers were still on the breakfast bar in the kitchen last night, instead of having been positioned in corners known to be popular with spiders. So what happened as they were watching a tense BBC1 drama last night? A large spider ran across the carpet waving at them, and disappeared under my chair. It’s still there.
So there are now ruddy conkers all over the place in corners, but they won’t stay there for long as Gingercat likes to kick them all over the shop. It’s very irritating and I wish they wouldn’t bother.
Goodness me look at the time. No wonder I’m exhausted.
Bye for now,