Thieves in the night...

-
So apparently these days, it's acceptable to get the sponsorship money off the sponsor prior to actually attempting the thing that the sponsor is paying you for...or so I found out this morning, when I headed next door with a grubby £10 note in my hand.  Mrs R's youngest was going to walk ten miles yesterday with the whole school.  I just hope all that money in his trouser pocket doesn't heed his progress at all.

So another work week comes to an end.  If I had to sum up my week in a few words, they would be flapjack, charity shops, and shredding. Thankfully the flapjack (always supplied by me to thank the Transport Office for all they do for me) is always saved for Friday, or Fat Friday as it has lovingly been renamed.  I usually buy this from M&S on a Friday morning, but this week, because I was in there Thursday, I had a sensible thought, and bought it then, thus freeing myself up for 15 minutes this morning to put a load of washing on.

When I popped into the Transport Office with the flapjack and mini chocolate rolls (I like to keep them on their toes) I decided to take a couple back for the boys I work with.  Imagine my horror when the lid came off in my hand, without me having to locate the seal.  Someone had been pinching my flapjack...

So I had two options as to who the thief was.  It was either the husband or daughter number one.  Now I very quickly ruled out daughter number one, as she tends to eat salad and various other healthy items, some of which have never made it into either my trolley or my fridge before she moved in.  The husband on the other hand, had come in late last night rather the worst for wear after his 'exercise' to the pub and back on his bike.  I imagined him seeing the flapjack, struggling to break the seal, eventually resorting to using his teeth to get into the box, and then grabbing a sticky handful of flapjack.

Well after some direct questioning last night when both of the suspects returned from work, it would appear that the salad eating daughter is not as squeaky clean on the healthy food as she makes out.  She had opening the box, dibbed in, and just stuck the lid back on again.

So, dear reader, this is the reason why I shall be reverting to buying my flapjack on a Friday, and taking it straight to work.  Around 12.15 yesterday, just as I was flagging a little, I thought to myself, 'I really fancy a piece of that flapjack'.  Sauntering into the office, I said to the girls that I was just taking one piece to have with my cup of tea.  'You'll be lucky', was the response.  Opening both boxes up, there was one solitary mini chocolate roll and NO FLAPJACK.

So daughter number one, because you nicked it, there wasn't one for me when I really needed it.

You can make your own bloody tea at 6.00am on Monday.

I'm sulking...

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

It's raining men...

-
We overslept this morning.  I'm not entirely surprised having walked the equivalent of a half marathon over the past two days, and we just about made breakfast.   We did all the usual Christmas stuff today.  Carnaby Street, Regent Street, Borough Market, mulled wine (again), chocolate covered bananas and caramelised nuts.  There was also the issue of the very inclement weather.  Wandering around the whole A to Z of London, the husband decided that a purchase of a hat and scarf was necessary.  Being a fairly sensible woman, I had brought a hat, scarf and gloves with me, but the husband, being of tougher stuff (he hails from the north) had proclaimed that he was no southern softy and would deal with whatever the weather had to throw at him in a manly fashion. Fast forward to late morning, the rain was chucking it down, and the manly fashion had morphed into wimpy whinging about a chaffed chin due to an evil coat zip and a wet head.  And so began the hut hunt. We tried sports shops (t
Read more

Ain't no mountain high enough...

-
Image
I thought you might be interested in the other stuff Mr Bird and I got up to while we were away in the Wobble Box this weekend.  The pinnacle of the weekend was the mountain climb (see what I did there?) but before this, we had anticipated a simple, peaceful and quiet few days together with the dogs.  What we hadn't expected was to be shouted at as we strolled to the pub on the first night, 'What on earth are you two doing here?' Standing outside a posh (and long) motor home, were two very good friends of ours.  Happily retired, they trolley around the world in their home on wheels, and just happened to land in Pandy a whole thirty minutes before we did on Thursday.  The funny thing is, that every time we see each other, the subject of caravans and motor homes is always raised, with promises on both sides made that we will arrange something together for a weekend.  To date, we've never managed to do this, but it finally happened by accident.  We all decided that th
Read more

Diary...

-
Eight years ago, I came up with the idea of writing a diary for my children which I would put into the public domain.  And so Words from a Bird began.  Two thousand posts and almost a million words later, I am still going.  But like all of us, lives change.  Eight years ago, my life was all about the four children, schools, universities, boyfriends, girlfriends, work, my husband, family and the dogs. Much of that is still relevant today, thank goodness, but we now add in two weddings (one more pending), grandchildren (one, and again, one pending), retirement and looking after parents. So to all my completely gorgeous readers, to the ones who have been with me right from the start and to the new ones who have discovered me just this week, thank you for coming along for the ride with me.  I hope I carry on making you giggle for many years to come!   If you don't want to miss anything, just follow the Words from a Bird page. And when I am a very old lady, I hope that my children will
Read more