Recreate a Single Day

Somehow I have made it to day fourteen of the WordPress Blogging University “Every Day Inspiration” series of daily prompts. Yes, I know I haven’t doneevery day – but I’ve done quite a few of them. Today’s prompt appears to be the easiest of the lot, because it’s pretty much “what I do” – tell the story of my day (or at least a part of it – I can’t imagine many people would be too impressed with a description of brushing my teeth every morning, or emptying the dishwasher for the umpteenth time this week).

Today is Sunday – traditionally a day of rest. Har har. I woke at 4am this morning – don’t ask me why. After squinting at the clock for a few minutes I fell back asleep, and had an epic dream who’s content now escapes me – I remember feeling cheated when I woke again at 7am. While having a shower, shave, and brushing my teeth, Miss 12 made it downstairs, dressed in the same clothes she had been wearing yesterday.

“Did you sleep in your clothes again?”

“I might have done”

I rolled my eyes, and tilted my head in the most disapproving manner I could muster. She volunteered to go and get changed.

A couple of hours later myself, Miss 12, and Miss 17 left the house – headed towards a nearby bus-stop, twenty minutes crammed in among the fellow passengers, and a half hour walk to a nearby football stadium. During the walk Miss 12 variously complained that she was thirsty, hungry, cold, and that she needed to go to the bathroom. She didn’t appreciate me repeating her list of ailments back to her, and asking if she had anything further to add to the list.

Eventually we arrived at the football ground, and snuck in a side entrance – flashing the free tickets via my phone screen at a very bored looking turnstile attendant.

“Can we get a drink?”

And that’s how we came to stand in a queue to buy a hot chocolate for twenty minutes. We stood in the same queue for twenty minutes at half-time – in order to buy a cardboard cup full of potato chips. If you covered them in enough ketchup, they tasted vaguely like they might not cause a stomach problem tomorrow.

I’m not going to write about the football match – because I’m not a sports writer, and it will probably bore you to tears. I will mention the group of opposition supporters a few rows behind us that sand idiotic songs mostly to amuse themselves throughout the game. One of the songs ended half-way through with a chorus of “I’VE FORGOTTEN THE WORDS”, followed by raucous laughter. Oh how I wish our team had thumped theirs, but alas no – the universe doesn’t work like that. The game ended at two goals a-piece.

The journey home was a perfect re-wind of the journey to the game. If the day had been recorded on cassette tape, we could very well have poked a pen through the spindle, and spun the tape backwards until we arrived home again. I supposed wedidgo grocery shopping on the way home too – becauseeverybody goes grocery shopping every time they leave the house, right?

We’re eating ready meals for dinner tonight. As soon as I finish writing this I will go and turn the oven on. Miss 11 and Miss 12 have pizza, I have noodles, and my other half and Miss 17 have curry. I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to fill lunchboxes with in the morning. Before we get there, I need to go threaten all sorts of recriminations to ensure homework is done, and school clothes are ready to go for the morning.

On weekday mornings our house resembles a Formula One pit crew – except one where packed lunches, breakfasts, and bags full of books, pens, and pencils are thrown here, there, and everywhere before everybody is ejected from the house at pre-planned intervals. It almost goes wrong almost every day, but never too disastrously. Wish us luck.

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