Monday Afternoons

OK so my morning wasn't great (see previous post) but my afternoon was worse. Much worse.

I took son no. 1 to school nursery and he moaned every step of the way - I was walking too fast, I was walking too slow, I was walking with a footfall not identical to his, I was walking on his shadow, I wasn't walking on his shadow etc etc (in the way that I'm sure all 4 year olds can) until I reached the point of thinking it was a good job I wasn't carrying an umbrella because I would have probably used it - inappropriately....

Anyway I got back home to find that son no.2 had fallen asleep in his buggy so I had to transfer him to his cot still in his snowsuit - the snowsuit he HATES - and open his window so he didn't boil in the bag.

Downstairs I heated up my lunch (vegetable curry) only for it to explode in the microwave. I never knew butternut squash possessed such volatile tendencies. It actually went KABOOM. So that was fun.

Son No. 2 then woke up and finding himself cocooned in the snowsuit that he really really hates he went, to be frank, nucking futs.

So he came downstairs and I went out in the garden to catch the (bloody) rabbit. More on the rabbit another day. I haven't the energy now. I pursued the rabbit round and round the garden whilst muttering about boiling water and casserole pots (no doubt the neighbours were laughing - again) - and all the while Son No. 2 stood sobbing hot tears at the door begging me to come back in so he could wipe his snot on me. Again.

Eventually we made our way back to the nursery to collect Son No. 1 who was not at all happy to hear that he couldn't go and play at his friend's house because we had to come back here and wait for the Virgin engineer (that is Virgin as in the cable company - not virgin as in 'unused'. I wouldn't know anything about his sexual history) who would hopefully restore our telephone services.

So we walked all the way home - once again with whinging accompanying every step ('I'm too cold, I'm too hot, my legs ache, my head is hot, my eyebrow is aching - I kid you not - his EYEBROW...) and we got home and we waited for the engineer. And we waited.

I got bored of waiting and decided to try and fix a necklace which had lost some jewels (it was £2 from Primark and I haven't even worn it yet - I got it home and within minutes of lying on the kitchen table, the jewels fell off. Bodes well for the future doesn't it?). So I got the superglue out and started trying to get the lid off (you know what's coming don't you?). I couldn't get the lid off because, funnily enough, the superglue had glued it on - very very tightly. As I pulled and squeezed and swore I suddenly realised that some glue was coming out - out of the sides of the tube and all over my fingers..... I frantically started dabbing the glue onto the necklace only to get the necklace glued to my fingers.... Oh flipping great I'm thinking - I'm now going to have to greet the engineer and put the kids to bed with a whopping great Primark necklace glued to my right hand..... Just the ticket! Eventually (after a lot of internal panic) I got it off (obviously, or I wouldn't be typing this - I'd be in hospital having a skin graft or something) but still the Virgin man didn't come.

I started to get a bit paranoid and wondered if, in fact, our address was 'black listed' and the engineer was delaying his visit on purpose. You see, the last time I had a Virgin man out things were a tad, erm, embarrassing.

First of all, I left him fiddling with the cables out in the conservatory only to walk in and find that Son No. 1 (who was being potty trained at the time) had gone in there and done a poo on the floor. Next to him. Yes - you read that right. He went and sat next to the engineer and did a poo. The engineer was a trendy young lad of about 19 - NOT somebody who was likely to be au fait with the crapping habits of toddlers. I was so ashamed that I just walked in, did a double take, gulped hard, did a huge over-bright smile and said 'SOOO do you fancy a cup of tea!?' whilst simultaneously throwing a coat over the poo. Funnily enough he said no.....

I wish I could say it ended there - but it didn't. Later the engineer told me he was going out to the van (which was parked quite some distance away) and while he was out, I went for a wee. Now I always wee with the door open (well at home anyway) so it was to my utter horror that, a few seconds after he went out, the engineer bounded straight back in, having realised he'd forgotten something and came STRAIGHT up the stairs - only to be confronted by the sight of me on the toilet, pants round ankles, mouth gaping wide, silent scream trapped in my throat....

I am cringing writing this and I seriously dread to think what he told his mates in the pub that night. 'Yeah I got called out to this old bird's house (I'm sure anyone over 25 was old in his eyes) and first of all she had her kid shitting on the floor and didn't even clear it up and the next thing I know, she's got her pants round her ankles and is pissing in front of me. I tell you - I was OUTTA there....). So it's no wonder the engineer waited until 7.15pm, when he knew my OH would be home, before turning up.

On the plus side though - my phone is fixed. If anyone wants to call me after that little revelation....

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