I’m sorry Peanut and T-Bone were late this morning. In the middle of the night a little person climbed into our bed. They patted my face and said ‘I love you Mummy’ and then they cuddled up very close, and some hours later, urinated on my back.
I woke up cold and soggy and so I had to have a bath, but once I was in there with a cup of coffee, an English muffin and Sue Sylvester’s memoir, it was very difficult to get out again. I chatted across the hallway to the seven year old. I had delivered her a muffin in bed on my way to the bath, and she was snuggled up reading Harry Potter. She wasn’t going anywhere either.
The five year old had dressed his the top half, but then he starting illustrating a complicated battery-power machine drawing, and forgot about his pants. The toddler was fully nude and lining up her stuffed animals on an imaginary bus.
Keith wasn’t getting anybody ready for school. He was trying to work out the chords for the ABBA classic ‘The Winner Takes It All’ on the piano. Finally I got out of the bath so I could help him with the high notes.
All of this was happening as we picked our way through a sea of playing cards, toy food, puzzle pieces and unfolded washing, and so I had significant trouble finding shoes, hats, lunchboxes and reading folders in the chaos. I know this is an unreasonably long explanation, Office, but basically, it’s the last week of term, I can’t find the source of everything-smells-like-wee, and we’re all just staggering to the finish line.