I hate myself before I even start going into this day, but I need to get it off my chest.  I’m hoping at least telling it on here will make me feel a bit better.

6a.m., L woke me up to tell me he’d heard Phillip calling from outside (Phillip = our local friendly pheasant).

6:30a.m., H woke me up to ask me if she could tell me her dream.  I told her no, and she stormed out leaving the door wide open.

6:31a.m. Thunder pawed his fat way onto my stomach and chest (way to go Thunder, my MOST sensitive areas right now).

7a.m. L shouted out, “I’ve done a poooooooooo!”

7:30a.m. H came to ask if she could tell me her dream yet.

8a.m. I managed to lever myself up and the children proceeded to jump on Y

8:05a.m. Y had pushed them both off and H had hit her head on his bedside drawers

8:07a.m. Y declared he was ill

8:30a.m. H and L got dressed and gave us a runway catwalk show of their mismatched clothing.

8:40a.m. I got up and dressed and made breakfast for the children and I.

10a.m. Went out to Costco, in the pouring rain, with two children, a flask full of coffee and no husband

10:30a.m. stopped by a little zakka shop that turned out to be more like a tardis and took a good while to drag the children away from each aisle where they said, “oh Mummy, buy it pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeassse!”

11a.m. left the shop without having bought anything.  Score.

12:20p.m. Arrived at Costco at the worst time ever.  A rainy Saturday lunchtime..good thinking Laura.  But I needed grapes..”I will scream if they don’t have grapes” I said to H.

12:30p.m. Damn IT.  No bloody grapes.  “Scream then Mummy!” Hannah said a little too bossily.  I dutifully let out a mini scream wishing I could just let rip in the Costco cold room. Staff member gave us cherries and then tomatoes, just so she could go on and on in perfect American English about why the tomatoes would last for two weeks in the fridge.  She forgets probably that she tells me how many oranges I can find in their big orange boxes EVERY time I go and how they don’t contain any seeds.  I am foreign after all, I probably look the same as the rest.

1p.m. Still there, letting the children play with the crappy books and try on shoes that are almost certainly going to be five times too wide for their narrow feet..bloody genetics.  And wishing that those funky wellies came in sizes bigger than 24cm.

2p.m. Gave up the line for the crappy hot dogs and drove to Saizeriya to get junk food because by now we are all too hungry to make sensible food choices, and well, my children are 5 and 3 years old.  They are more than willing to go along with sausages, hash browns, pizza and garlic bread.

4p.m. Reach home with a sleeping L in the car.  Y didn’t answer my text about helping me unload the car and as I am paranoid about the chicken being too warm, I do the whole bloody car myself.  I do end up leaving a pack of 24 soda waters for Y to deal with.  I’m not THAT stupid…mostly.

6p.m.  Have a late dinner after hanging up laundry and watching some programme about Capibaras and Jaguars on Animal Planet with H.

7p.m.  Get sad when H and L don’t do as they’re told and Y ends up telling H that if she loved him she would do as she was told.

8p.m. Children in bed and have a mini squabble about the fact I don’t think Y should be making his five year old feel that his love for her is conditional.

9p.m. Ok, now it’s all written down, I do feel a bit better.  Thanks for listening.  I’m off to bed.


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