Same S**t, Different Day

Today started in the usual way with Jude screaming like a banshee at 5am. You just have to hear it to believe a noise so ghastly can come from such a cute little boy. Think screeching caged monkey high on crack and you might be close.

The boys have been sick this week so it was no surprise to see Holly coughing up a lung when she woke up, therefore an executive decision was made that nobody was going to school. This decision was heavily influenced by the fact it was pouring with rain and meant I wouldn’t have to do the school run. A rather drastic and probably not thought out properly way of getting out of it quite frankly.

After we knocked back a few shots of Nurofen, Rob assessed the situation and made a quick getaway to work. I swear he has some kind of ESP because just as the door slammed Jude decided to spew all over me and the floor.

So I did what any other normal person would do and took a photo.

No guessing what he had for breakfast

At 8am I heard the rubbish truck outside which always stresses me because I know I’ll have forgotten to put the nappies out and will be stuck with them for another week. We generate a lot of rubbish with six of us in the house and as I’ve done all my christmas shopping I had a pile of boxes to get rid of too. Plus the last of the stuff I couldn’t trust Rob to take to the tip (you can read about that HERE).

Because the forty hundred bazillion pounds we pay in council tax each year obviously isn’t enough to cover waste removal, the rubbish guys will only take so much of your rubbish, and if they deem it excessive they just leave it. I know, criminal.

So off I trotted outside, in my nightie, to negotiate with the rubbish man a cash deal to take away the extra rubbish. Twenty quid later and somewhat pissed off, I marched back inside in a huff and stepped in a puddle of warm dog wee. Our Australian dog who still can’t cope with English winters had decided he wasn’t going outside today and left me a gift to let me know. Totally the rubbish guys fault.

By 8.30am Charlie and Luca were fighting so badly over an old beanie I found in the great basement cleanup of 2012 that by 8.32am I spat the dummy and decided Charlie wasn’t sick enough for me to deal with that crap all day long and I sent him to school. I’m pretty sure that qualifies me for yet another parenting award.

So all in all it was just your average morning at Chez Marmalade …

Beanie Wars

 

So how was your morning?

 

 

 

 

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