Today started with screaming.  Screaming punctuated with yelling, and laughter, definitely shrill laughter.  Jumping from high up places, possibly bunk beds.  Jettisoning of objects that were absolutely not meant to be jettisoned.  Arguing, slapping, hair-pulling and tears.

And all before 6am.

By the time I dropped them off at school, they’d been threatened with everything but decapitation, and that was only because I didn’t have a sharp enough implement to hand.

In case you’re wondering, this was the day that should have been:

7.45am I step out of a 40 minute, steaming hot shower (that didn’t once scald me as some little bugger turned the cold tap on full to ‘wash their hands’).  There’s a HUGE, warmed towel waiting to envelope me and a freshy made cup of tea left on the bedside table.  Glancing to the (now made) bed I see an envelope. Flights to Rome. The post it note attached tells me I’ve got an hour to get ready before the cab arrives.  That’s an hour, not five minutes and “can’t you do your hair and make-up in the car?”.

That’s where I am now btw.

Not stretched out on the sofa regretting eating that undercooked smoked haddock fishcake for dinner.

No, not there at all…


The day that was and the day that should have been…
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