Yet another national holiday brought the usual round of squabbling and bickering. A new low was found when the boys got into a heated and semi-violent debate about what we will eat for lunch after Jim’s graduation ceremony, just two short years hence. Had to pull the Ace out of my pocket and threaten them with no Lily Rush if they didn’t get their acts together.
The morning got off to a rocky start. I got up at 5, not sleeping well, don’t know why, never mind, not the point, by the time I woke them at 7 I had enjoyed two quiet hours, so was feeling fine and breezy even singing a few songs.
I made three packed lunches, while not an everyday occurance I’ll grant you, the kids felt the need to act as if a meteor had landed in our very own kitchen.
A white sweatshirt for school came out of the washing machine with mysterious purple stains all over it, causing distress and anguish and silly suggestions like can I run and buy a new one as soon as the shop opens and bring it to the school.?
A mis-laid school lunch apron was AWOL, causing angry ranting up and down the stairs.
Finding a school blouse that the cat hadn’t sneezed it’s blood-filled snot on, proved difficult, and it got so it was tempting to just yell ‘get out everybody, everybody out now’, ‘they’ say that is damaging for the delicate self-esteem, so I had to resist.
Jim of course was last out, lollygaggingaround the room in the vain hope that I’d end up taking him in the car.
Now they’ve all gone, quiet is restored, kitchen trashed by bento making activities, living room trashed from search for Kev’s apron, bathroom trashed by teenage girls and a 10 hour work day ahead, with no viewing pleasures scheduled for this evening.
Tuesday’s the new Monday, best foot forward.