There really isn't a good time or a good way to ask 'Auntie Ba' whether she can do a double whammy of babysitting the monsters (for the umpteenth time) both tonight while jay and I sneak out for a solo dinner AND tomorrow morning for 3+ hours as i do a voiceover across town. But certainly, having Egg lecturing Auntie to get out of bed and Ollie smacking the sofa inches from her head as she tosses and turns from an unfitful nights sleep on our sofa prooooobably isn't one of them.
She's accusing me from the other room of 'dropping' them on her and running, but truly i'm not. I can't help it if they adore her and want to play with their snoozing Auntie...can i? Egg is once again naked on the bottom signifying another tiny drop of urine which necessitated him changing his own nappy for the fourth time this morning....damn we are going to be bankrupt if this continues much longer! At 30 pence a nappy we're just burning money these days.
It's a lovely summers day from the looks of it, and even though i hear Auntie somewhat crossly muttering under her breath from the next room and preparing to ditch us for the flat next door, I am looking forward to spending the day with my Dad, and am glad for the distraction that having him here affords.
Last night I made a delicious Pumpkin Risotto and Rocket Salad with fresh Strawberries and Pavlova for dessert...but my wayward husband after leaving me a message at 8 saying he was jumping on the tube...simply failed to materialise. When the Risotto began congealing into an unattractive mess, I finally gave up and insisted we eat without him - much to my Dad's chagrin (who is 'old school' and still insists on certain manners...bless him...he should spend more time in this household and that would cure him!).
It's a good thing we DIDN'T wait, as my husband sauntered in some time after 10pm, barely muttering hello and skulking off to the kitchen to heat his dinner up (sigh). Why is it that I'm turning into a 'tv mom' all of the sudden? By that I mean one of those 'hard done by' ladies who simply sigh into their pasta when their husband doesn't come home for dinner, and who quietly do the washing up while maybe a tear escapes and they look longingly out the window over at the loving family next door....
Okay okay i'm getting over-dramatic here. I just mean that I am fearful of turning into a middle-aged cliche. Give me passion! Give me zest for life! At the very least if I'm going to turn into a 'Tv Mom' then I've at least got to have a montage of me sitting alone in front of the telly at night, carton of Haagan-Daz in lap and a big spoon which I'm using to shovel vast amounts of Belgian Chocolate ice-cream into my quivering mouth. Don't you think?
Give me anything but dull silences, dejected poses and weary chit-chat. Seriously.