Quick straw poll - How many other working Mums, striving to do their best to keep up with juggling the dream dual lifestyle, have a husband with 15 shirts in the ironing pile??
Is it really just me? Any idea why Nobby should need more than fifteen shirts? And how he manages to get them all into the washing at the same time? Clearly I am spending far too much time enjoying my school holiday than keeping up with my chores.
The kids are being reasonably delightful. When I can drag them away from all the screens they like to glue themselves to, they have been quite creative.
Pickle produced a cute little double-bicycle for his two toy hamsters the other day. (I aim to keep him busy enough so he doesn't try to make one for the real hamster.) He showed it to us at breakfast and proudly announced, 'I've made a few improvements since the last model.'
'Really, darling?' says I, 'What did you do?'
'I've added a machine gun on the back.'
I am not sure I want to know the dangers facing these small, stuffed rodents which warrants the presence of heavy artillery so I just said 'That's nice, dear' and shut up.
Today the pair of them have produced a racing circuit round the garden which also involves jumping off the swingset, clambering up a steep embankment and leaping on the trampoline. Pickle says we are each going to have a sticker book to record our times in so I need to get my printer fixed so he can make them. Personally I am dragging my heels getting the printer fixed so I don't have to run, jump and clamber. Call Miss Lazy but I frankly, am I bovvered?
We had a welcome diversion this afternoon in the form of a free trip to watch the ice hockey world championship qualifiers at the Budapest Arena. It was my first school trip as a responsible officiating teacher and I have to say our crowd behaved themselves really well.
More than can be said for the brats in front of us, whose resulting mess will have taken the Arena staff the best part of an hour to clear up. Clearly they have not broken up from school yet, unlike us, so they'd been up at the grindstone all morning and decided to let off some steam on the school trip. Their teachers stupidly (or rather, having witnessed the chaos, very wisely) sat themselves in front of their group of fifty kids, perhaps thinking that a view of the back of their heads would be suitable warning to behave. How wrong they were.
Still, at least they all had a great time and the team I had chosen to support, the Netherlands, won the match.
Currently I am (supposed to be) wandering through that confusing and hectic world known as holiday packing ahead of our trip to Rome. I am a born procrastinator and I have to say, nothing makes me dither and dally more than the necessity to pack. So far today I have phoned the bank to tell them we are away, cleaned out my handbag, shaved my legs, tested the thermometer and dug out the suncream, but I haven't actually put any clothes in the suitcase yet.
Oh, but did iron a shirt...
Conversations with children; not for the faint-hearted
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