Words from a Bird. Day 85.
So the Bank Holiday weekend is upon us. I don't know about you, but for me this is always the equivalent of losing a day of my life. I spend the whole of Thursday thinking its Friday, then Friday is Saturday etc. It's only 6.00pm on Thursday, and I have already lost Friday twice. Once to a Depot Meeting at work which totally caught me unawares. As I was convinced it was Friday, I had assumed that Thursday's Depot Meeting was yesterday. The boys looked slightly bewildered, and a bit frightened if I'm honest. They'll learn that the mind of a middle aged woman (I will live to 106) is not one to be trifled with.
I lost it the second time was when I called daughter number 2 in France to ask her if she'd enjoyed her last day's skiing. She said very patiently that as it was only Thursday, she still had another whole day left. 'Aaah yes', I said, 'it's Thursday, not Friday'. More chat, then 'Well, have a good flight home in the morning then'. I could almost see her roll her eyes across the airwaves....'I will, Mum, when I leave on Saturday...'
The upside of all this is then that you feel you've gained a day. So then I get all giddy, thinking about what I am going to do with all this extra time. I'll tell you what I am going to do with it, spend the whole day thinking it's tomorrow...
The trouble is that we have lots planned over the weekend - I have visions of an M25 multi-event pile up around 8.30pm on Friday.
So yesterday (or today, not too sure) son number 2 broke up from school. As he has a penchant for many clothing changes through the day (think Beyoncé) my washing machine and ironing board are on high alert. They will need the equivalent of a spa day when he goes back in a few weeks.
Talking about son number 2, I have never known a boy so in love with weird clothes. There are times when he would give Liberace a run for his money as paisleys, stripes and pictures (usually skulls) crash headfirst into each other, and I find myself wishing that there was a vertical hold button on the remote control which I could point at him. He is a great believer in individuality where clothing is concerned. I remember one pair of leopard print brothel creepers which he was particularly fond of. He was definitely an individual wearing those...well I doubt anyone else would have bought a pair.
I am rather proud of him though. It takes balls to stand out from the crowd.
Something Liberace would appreciate I'm sure...