Perfect day...
Words from a Bird. Day 83
My day didn't start well....I am not the best arguer in the world, but whilst juicing this morning, son number 2 managed to rile me to such a level that I chucked a tub of fruit across the worktop. Why is it, that whenever I lose my temper, it's only ever me that has to clear up after myself. I have a very clear memory of launching an open packet of icing sugar into the air, which was in response to a particularly violent spat between daughter number 2 and son number 2 over a couple of Playmobile figures (this was years ago in case you're wondering).
When the dust finally settled (literally) I was left looking at two mini old age pensioners, white from head to toe. Obviously I couldn't laugh, and worse still, I couldn't make them clear it up, so yet again, down to yours truly. They were sent to the rooms, looking like two extras from Rentaghost, leaving white footprints across the hall. My kitchen floor resembled that of a skanky night club for a week. All it was missing was the odd fag end, some broken glass and a load of blokes lurking in the corner waiting to make their move in the 'Erection Section'. This was my teenage phrase for the last dance of the night at the disco. Not many of you will know that this is where I met the husband at the age of 16. He did quite of a lot of lurking that night...
So back to this morning. I left home in not too favourable a mood, mulling over what son number 2 had declared about 'not having enough time to do anything'.....It would appear that I can fill two of my hours with fourteen of his, and that's being conservative. Perhaps I would be able to do as little as he does if I started sleeping at night and watching TV. What do you think?
My journey to work, three minutes when I can listen to a bit of chat and half a song if I'm lucky, was marred by an incident at the zebra crossing. Don't you just love it when you're patiently waiting for the fat kid on the scooter to cross, while his mum stands some way behind, completely oblivious to you. All credit to the kid though, he kept looking at his mum to gee her up a bit (looking at the size of her, a pasty might have swung it), but nothing was working.
As I made the decision to continue my journey, she then decided to launch herself at the crossing with a speed which was impressive for someone who probably hasn't seen her feet for many years. No acknowledgement of the fact that I had been waiting for almost a minute (it sounds petty when I say it now, but you try sitting that long with a queue of traffic behind you). Winding the window down (this was a bad idea, I know that now) as she reached the other side, I said with a smile...
'I've been waiting quite a while for you to cross. A thank you might have been nice'.
'Oh f**k off, you stuck up cow...'
How lovely......
My day didn't start well....I am not the best arguer in the world, but whilst juicing this morning, son number 2 managed to rile me to such a level that I chucked a tub of fruit across the worktop. Why is it, that whenever I lose my temper, it's only ever me that has to clear up after myself. I have a very clear memory of launching an open packet of icing sugar into the air, which was in response to a particularly violent spat between daughter number 2 and son number 2 over a couple of Playmobile figures (this was years ago in case you're wondering).
When the dust finally settled (literally) I was left looking at two mini old age pensioners, white from head to toe. Obviously I couldn't laugh, and worse still, I couldn't make them clear it up, so yet again, down to yours truly. They were sent to the rooms, looking like two extras from Rentaghost, leaving white footprints across the hall. My kitchen floor resembled that of a skanky night club for a week. All it was missing was the odd fag end, some broken glass and a load of blokes lurking in the corner waiting to make their move in the 'Erection Section'. This was my teenage phrase for the last dance of the night at the disco. Not many of you will know that this is where I met the husband at the age of 16. He did quite of a lot of lurking that night...
So back to this morning. I left home in not too favourable a mood, mulling over what son number 2 had declared about 'not having enough time to do anything'.....It would appear that I can fill two of my hours with fourteen of his, and that's being conservative. Perhaps I would be able to do as little as he does if I started sleeping at night and watching TV. What do you think?
My journey to work, three minutes when I can listen to a bit of chat and half a song if I'm lucky, was marred by an incident at the zebra crossing. Don't you just love it when you're patiently waiting for the fat kid on the scooter to cross, while his mum stands some way behind, completely oblivious to you. All credit to the kid though, he kept looking at his mum to gee her up a bit (looking at the size of her, a pasty might have swung it), but nothing was working.
As I made the decision to continue my journey, she then decided to launch herself at the crossing with a speed which was impressive for someone who probably hasn't seen her feet for many years. No acknowledgement of the fact that I had been waiting for almost a minute (it sounds petty when I say it now, but you try sitting that long with a queue of traffic behind you). Winding the window down (this was a bad idea, I know that now) as she reached the other side, I said with a smile...
'I've been waiting quite a while for you to cross. A thank you might have been nice'.
'Oh f**k off, you stuck up cow...'
How lovely......
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