Of late we have had quite a bad run of luck in our household which has included a car crash that was not my fault probably my fault, the boiler packing in and the cat starting to randomly shit behind the TV (again).
On top of this the Gro Clock that i used to worship at the alter of, seems to have malfunctioned. The sun now winks at me mockingly each bedtime as if to say ‘lol – you’ll be lucky!’ and the moon needs that smug, self-satisfied smirk wiping right off his stupid round face.
Too tired to do much else we permit the older one into bed with us as long as he abides by the rules of no whinging for milk, kicking, or conversing until 6am. Of course he oscillates wildly between each, often breaching all three simultaneously.
The conversation is always the most difficult to block out as he seems to store up incredibly curious quips to tempt me from my slumber. On Saturday in particular, he had a proper gem:-
[To set the scene – It’s too early in the morning, the boy has been in our bed irritating me for some time. His father sleeps, largely oblivious, as per fricking usual]
‘Mummy your arms are………….so………..expensive looking’
