My week in review…
• Saturday – default sleep in to take number two manchild to RVI burns clinic. Leave house early to catch bus to stand at bus stop in freezing cold for an hour because it didn’t turn up.
When the bus did eventually turn up instantly regretted decision to take public transport and spent rest of the journey trying to avoid the ‘public’ things like; handrails, tickets, chewing gum under seats and people.
This continued into the hospital where we both wisely sat at the back of the waiting room with our back against the walls and all the other patients facing away from us (pretty good tactics I thought! ) That was until the preferbial alcoholic turned up, demanding to know why he wasn’t being taking in for his appointment (which was 45 minutes ago when Jackie who he knows from the pub went before him but her appointment time was after his, even though one appointment was with the nurse and the other with the doctor.) Funnily enough after several boisterous complaints he was taken next making the clinic run over by 90 minutes.
Of course the loud complaining man was replaced with the ‘coughing lady’ wearing a mask – oh the joys. On the upside I got my gore fix watching my son getting his burns treated and off we trotted to Primark – mistake number two.
Packed was an understatement (why is Primark always packed no matter when you go?) I would like to say we went straight home after that but we had to detour to boots for some bandages and stuff to redress my son’s ‘new’ dressings that where peeling by the second – this in turn cost me an arm and a leg not just for the medical supplies but for the £9 milkshake my manchild “needed to help him cope with the stresses of the day.” In hindsight I should have made him pay as
- He’s an adult
- He works and
- I should be more savuae to his sneaky escapades by now but I was more interested in surviving a second trip home in the death incubator ‘called a bus’ as I calculated the odds of being ill with something by the end of the week…
• Sunday – woke up feeling quite pleased with myself, a productive day was had yesterday. Planned to clean house and enjoy some me time when husband left to pick foster dogs up. In reality I sat on my arse most of the day with my dressing gown on and complained that I was ‘cold’.
• Monday – woke up with a headache and runny nose – f**king typical…
• Tuesday – woke up like the dead rising after hearing the suspicious sound of poop bombshells being dropped in the house -on investigation non was to be found -suspicious in itself.
One of the dogs is licking it’s lips like it’s just ate something tasty though – must tell Mr 3WD&P not to do kisses with the dogs…
• Wednesday – forgot to tell Mr 3WD&P about kisses – too late now. Have full blown cold, headache, glands, blocked ears, snot (lots of snot) and just when everybody is super Corona sensitive. I can’t even smell Willie’s fart and I know it’s a good one because all the dogs have left the room apart from him …
• Thursday – beaten. The cold has consumed me, moving onto my chest. It’s time to hibernate and I’m taking my people with me. I the knew public transport was a bad idea. The world has gone mad.
• Friday – 3am and I’m writing this post, having a house full of snotty manchildren (and a grandson) Willie has decided he too wants to be part of the gang. It’s amazing how quick you can wake up and dive into action when you hear a dog wretching on the carpet isn’t it.
Willie is taking it to new lengths tonight, frothing at the mouth while making a musical symphony from wretching and consequtive fart noises as he evacuates all the grass from the garden he has ate from his body – four hours later, twelve nursery rhymes, a dose of metacam and his daddy he eventually settles and goes back to sleep – just as we are getting up. Just f**king typical!!
Next week has got to be better surely?