Goldfish are low maintenance pets. Right? Wrong. The goldfish have joined the throng of animals and people who demand attention as soon as the first ray of sun is in the sky. They swarm (do fish swarm?) at the edge of the pond as soon as they see me in the kitchen and gulp pathetically until I throw out a handful of overpriced fish food. Then a feeding frenzy results, similar to the one taking place in my kitchen.
This beautiful Monday morning started with me setting the clock one hour fast and awakening at the awful hour of 4am. Some sense of self-preservation made me switch of the alarm and it was pleasant upon awakening later on that the time was not 8am, but 7am.
Unfortunately, this sense of the world being on my side was soon dashed when it became apparent that Small boy aged 8 is suffering from tonsillitis. This is when you can picture me on my knees; arms raised up (think Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane) desperately petitioning the Goddess to please let this cup pass me by.
You see, what happens is this; my children are the very pictures of health until their father steps onto an aeroplane. As soon as he is airbourne one dread disease after another rears its ugly head within the confines of my home. We’ve had scarlet fever, chicken pox, measles, mumps, encephalitis and so on.
I made an executive decision, I was not driving to the school and dropping off Things 2 and 3 and then all the back home to take Thing 1 to the doc. So, I phoned the school and took all 3 to the doc, then dropped Things 2 and 3 at their respective institutes of learning and Thing 1 is now ensconced beneath my desk with his duvet and pillow.
Thing 1 is booked off school until Thursday. Friday, the day Thing 1 returns to school, also happens to be the day that Thing 3’s school is closed for teacher training.
I surrender.
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