It wasn’t until I put my bag down at the end of a mind-numbing day at work, to be met by grumpy children, both hyper and tired from their first day at school, tripped over a basket full of dirty laundry whilst carrying another basket full needing to be put away, until the garage called to say that I was too late to pick my car up after its servicing, and could I come tomorrow, until I noticed the bins spilling over reproachfully, the fridge looking back at me blankly, with no hint of a dinner menu suggestion, until I practically needed an Arva to be dug out from under the avalanche of school forms needing to be filled, that I started to miss my mum.
And wow, that was quite a Proustian effort as far as sentence length goes…
Ok, I may have been a little bit spoilt this Summer, what with a very nice three-week break thank you very much, followed by a couple of weeks of being back at work, but with my mum staying to look after the children until school started. Meaning that I could leisurely get ready in an under an hour in the mornings, come home to a clean house, entertained children and lovely meals… (sob)
Why o why does my mum still work and live 600 km away, huh ? Cue: Foot stamp and lip curl.
Moving on but only just, I have still not quite recovered from the shock that my baby started school today, the first day of so many days to come, it’s a good job she has no idea, or she would probably need to go on Prozac. Amazingly, she did not cry, my brave little sweetie pie (warning : This is a gushing sentimentality alert). And even more amazingly, I did not cry either… – ok, only a little bit, all right ? Doesn’t count.
No. It. Doesn’t
Florida – Wild ones
Oohoo oohoo ooh 🙂