Yesterday was a long day because we had visitors and, as they were people we’d never met before (an airline geek internet friend – and his wife – of the Hub; a lovely couple), that meant a major clean (actual) and declutter (pretend – everything went in the shed and will come out again today) of the house, followed by pretty sandwich-making on my part.
They left around seven and the Hub and I watched a movie before bed, but I struggled to sleep because I was still feeling wound up by the unusual activity (cleaning). I finally fell asleep some time after midnight but the alarm woke me at six-thirty in the middle of a dream in which I felt really ill – so ill, in fact, that I still felt it when I awoke and I was groggy for about an hour after.
I put the shower on for Spud (yes, I spoil him, but he’s in the middle of exams and I want him to have as much sleep as he possibly can, and I can add five minutes by preparing his shower) and went downstairs. It was only as I was waiting for the kettle to boil that I realised I had forgotten to wake him. Not good on a day when he has two exams.
He was done and down before I’d made his breakfast (a boy doing his exams must not do them on an empty stomach), half-asleep as I was; and he couldn’t get much sense out of me.
He tells me his thought processes went like this: Mum’s weird this morning. I wonder if she could be having a stroke? Oh no! Who’ll make my breakfast in future?
When I related this to the Hub, he suggested that Spud might have some difficulty at university without me.
Spud reckons it won’t be a problem: he’s going to live off cereal and tomato sauce butties.
Well, it’s been nice chatting to you but I must go: I have to prepare a summer-long cookery course for a teenager: I want grandchildren one day.