Tuesday, 6 August 2013

Hit the road Jack...

Ssh.  Don't tell anyone but I'm off.  I'm hitting the road in the morning and heading north.  There's food in the fridge, custard creams in the tin and about ninety six episodes of Fireman Sam that need watching.  Big brother away with Papa, I'm pretty sure they'll be fine, my three.  I have arranged for adult supervision in my absence but I doubt they'll need it and certainly won't appreciate it.  As the main, constant grown up in their life my presence seems to have very little impact on how they spend their time, what food they choose to eat or the hours they sleep.  I sometimes wonder if they even notice I'm around,  hell bent as they are on destruction.  Except when I'm on the loo, of course. Or in the bath.  Or stark naked rummaging through my knicker drawer. Then I'm required. IMMEDIATELY.  Waiting is not an option. Just two minutes will not do.  Dripping wet from the shower?  Pans bubbling and boiling ferociously in the kitchen? Who the hell cares.  They have called (yelled and shrieked) and I must stop whatever I'm doing and act. Or else. So, in the morning I'll go, slip away and hope that two days spent somewhere else will restore, refresh and revitalise me. 
I've told them mummy's going to have a sleepover.  They think that's great.  I think it's great too.  Not only great but an absolute bloody necessity...

1 comment:

  1. Staying sane is very rare these days, not everyone has a healthy mind. But I am glad to see that you have one and amazing work you have shared.

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