The chicklets are supposed to leave the house at 7.30 a.m. where they will gather with their assigned ‘han’ to walk the treacherous 1.5 km route to school.
Over the past few months they have been later and later leaving, which means that either the ‘han’ has to wait for them, leading to bollockings from the han review committee, or I get phone calls from delegates of the han review committee or my chicks end up wandering the road by themselves or alone when they are argue about who had more jam on their toast.
Pushing, cajoling and bribing has not worked. When they finally do leave with everything they need at about 7.45 I have felt the need to hear Jeff B sing ‘hallelujah’.
So today I hatched a cunning new plan.
At 7.25 I started singing, in my own non-American Idol, tuneless, tone -deaf way, the song myself.
They flew out of the house so damn fast I don’t think they even finished their toast.
” The fourth the fifth,
the minor fall and the major liiiift,
The baffled King composing Hallelujah