I’m trying to get ready for a sleepover with the kids at my cousin’s house. For some reason I’m moving in slow motion and the hands on the clock are on fast forward.
The house is littered in half done tasks and Zeph is wandering around with his homework worksheet trying to find transparent, translucent and opaque objects. Ida trails in his wake – ‘elping. There is much loud bickering.
A minute ago I found myself looking blankly at him while he asked if the lemon icing I’m putting on top of the fairycakes to take could be classed as translucent. It’s quite thin and you can see the top of the cake through it so I suppose you could.
I’m aware of the washing half done and not dry (the pj’s are in there) the washing up in the sink, the fact Ida has been quiet because she’s been playing with my wool bag and the living room is a kittens dream of a soft play centre, the phone is ringing and I haven’t fed the cat.
I feel translucent.
and like going back to bed.
I’m looking forward to hanging out with the guys and the kids will have a lovely time. If we can just get to the end of the next couple of hours intact and with clean sleeping clothes that don’t reveal us as the tramps we are.
Maybe a coffee will help.
Or a rolo.