Am running a day behind. Most unlike me. I’m usually running about a decade behind in all things. Especially fashion.
So, the daily routine. I’ll go with today. Prepared to be wowed/bored shitless. It could go either way to be honest.
6:00 – Hands off cocks, feet in socks. In an all male household (bar me, obviously. I only have balls of the mind) it is essential that the early morning warcry is something the mongrels will understand.
What actually happened today was that I snuck out and went for a run on the fells whilst they were all still sucking in the sheets.
6:45 Chased by a herd of curious bullocks on Birkrigg. Dived, ala Cat Woman, over a dry stone wall and ran like Seb ‘Tory’ Coe through a farmers field freshly planted with something short, spiky and itchy. Genetically modified thistles perhaps.
7:30 Home, wake the hoards, feed various breakfast eaters, cajole non breakfast eaters into having a drink, feed cats, do my packed lunch, their packed lunch, hang out No1’s mountain biking gear, ensure No2 has dinner money, trousers on, hair brushed, help dress No3, eat breakfast, run bath, swear at internets, get bath, get work suit on, dry and straighten hair, find matching shoes, pack all seventeen bags, get in car, drop No3 off, put make up on in car. Resist urge to sleep in lay by.
8:50 Arrive at work.
Between the hours of 9-5 anything can happen. Today nothing happened.
Did a shitload of administration. Tedious yet necessary.
5:00 Home, change clothes, head out to fatclass where I learn I have put on 2lbs. Go home. Eat cake and Chinese.
Any other day but a Wednesday I would be picking No3 up but today is ‘handover’. He’s off to Wonderdad’s for three days. I’d like to say this is a wrench and I miss him terribly. I don’t. It’s always been this way and I know Wonderdad shares my sentiment when I say it’s a fantastic way to parent. For the parents at least. No3 seems to show no ill effects from the way we do things. Time will tell.
Which brings me to now. Heating on. No2 and I on sofa communicating only through a series of grunts and clicks and only when there’s a break in our typing.
Oh and joy of joys… New Emergency Bikers is on. I’m a tiny bit in love with Big Steve.