how are you?
Today is Monday. Tell me why I don’t like Mondays? Ok, I will:
1. The Face’s alarm didn’t go off (even though someone NAGGED him about making sure his itouch was charged and not on 18th December 2027 at 17.45 as its date and time). So…..my alarm went off (as I’m boring and make sure these things work……mainly) and I have to say, I did enjoy shouting ‘The FACE! Quick! It’s 7 a.m. You’ve got 10 minutes (to save the world, Flash?) to get ready before the bus LEAVES!!!!!’ – I almost felt sorry for him……
2. I had a French lesson booked for 9 a.m. Reason enough to hate Mondays, I know. Normally, so that I can move all the SHITE the family leaves everywhere each and every friggin’ morning, BEFORE my french teacher arrives, the Husband takes the kids to school…………i said NOR-mally, as in, today, at 8.30 a.m., when I wasn’t dressed, was trying to find invitation templates for the party that The Lips-I-definitely-don’t-want-a-birthday-party-this-saturday….oh-hang-on, I-now-think-I-will-have-one, needed to take to school in 10 minutes……anyway, the husband announced that he needed to go right then and there to get cash to pay someone he wasn’t seeing for three hours. Of course he did……and what he didn’t need was to buy more nicorette gum….no, of course not.
I take the kids to school and pass my French teacher (who happens to be a school mum and extremely well organised), shove the kids through the school gate (I think they fell but I couldn’t hear their cries once I’d turned the corner), run back past my French teacher (who arrives in under 2 mins) back to the house, kick some shite under furniture, go into the back kitchen where I am shocked to find my washing machine, hanging off the 2 foot ledge/plinth (argue amongst yourselves) by one corner, whilst the water and evacuation pipes are so taut as to be near to snapping free, with a floor as slippery as ice (softener – the blame lies with you) and the cycle still going.
Do you know how heavy a (n overloaded……..GUILTY) washing machine is? especially when you have no grip on the floor. It is however funny how I found some super human strength to push the thing back into it’s jail cell ….I mean, plinth/step just as the door was knocked…..
My french lesson was a success as usual. REally, I don’t know why I continue when I’m so fluent……
3. Mondays follow the weekend. The weekend involves more bodies in and out of the house than in the week. More bodies (other than mine) means more mess and more pee pee near or thereabouts the direction of the toilet but never into it..etc.
4. Today I thought I would make jam.
For the first time.
For those of you who know me, this was and will be, certain to FAIL (I don’t do this every Monday and actually has nothing to do with Mondays but I think I can hear the laughter of the Bogster (friend) and the Jusmaster (another friend) from here).
5. Drinking wine at 5 p.m.
well, following on from an email exchange with the F’Aussie (an Aussie who lives in France and therefore not to be confused with Aussies who quite rightly, live in Australia), today, and Mondays in particular, at WINE TIME, I cannot drink wine.
This is a self imposed ban.
Normally I do not exert such control and those last seconds ticking away before 5.00 p.m. feel that bit longer than say……..the last few seconds before your French teacher arrives to CHAOS…..anyway, to get back on track –
this evening, I have a French child in the house.
I had two french children in the house but one has gone to do a sporting activity with the Lips and the husband (and bless my soul, FAtty too).
To be found, by French parents, drinking wine, on my own at 5 p.m.? Mon DIEU!!!!!!!!!
So, I found a mug and poured the wine into that and no one will be any the wiser (bottoms up, F’aussie).
Ok – now to go back to blog 3 and the flatulent guest:
The gas this guest emits could be used in a chemical warfare situation.
It clears rooms.
It lingers and comes back and hits you in waves and waves and waves.
It smells like freshly laid dog poo………. and here is the clue
The guest is a labrador. Old as the hills (mind you, I think I actually have more grey hair than her…..and thinking about it, maybe my gas isn’t as fragrant as I’d like to think but I HOPE that is where the similarities stop?).
Time to put down my pen and pap…..keyboard and burn some things for dinner.
Tomorrow we shall discuss if ‘mum, is bloody hell a swear word?’ and other such dilemmas.