The radio alarm clock exploded into life at 7am, filling the bedroom with the local radio station, playing pre-recorded news from the big networks. I rolled over, groping for my phone on the bedside table, and spent a few moments squinting at the avalanche of notifications that had stacked up overnight – swiping them away one by one.
After staring at the ceiling for a while and trying to organise my thoughts, I rolled upright and peeked from the bedroom window at a world that had been blanketed in frost overnight. One of the cats forced the bedroom door open, and jumped onto the bed cover, greeting me with a friendly “meow” that really meant “get out of bed and feed me you lazy asshole – I’m hungry”. While waiting for me to respond he practiced “Cat-Fu”, concentrating his entire bodyweight on one foot, placed deliberately on a pressure point while staring directly at my face.
Fine. I’ll get up then.
After a shower, a shave, throwing some clothes on, loading the washing machine, unloading the tumble dryer, folding clothes in the lounge, picking up after my other half and the kids, and putting fifteen pairs of shoes away, I finally got around to feeding the cats and the fish. The cats were by this time furious.
I looked in on the argument that had been going on in the junk room since I woke – Miss 12 and Miss 13 were hunched over the old desk, playing FIFA against each other – smack talking continuously. 12 had slept in her school clothes – for some reason she thinks this is acceptable at the moment.
“You need to go and get ready for football”
“After this game”
They always have an answer that delays your request.
Across the hallway I looked in on Miss 17, who was curled up in the bedclothes not unlike her hamster. We got the hamster out again last night – slowly getting her used us. I mentioned about making coffee and received a fidget in response.
A few minutes later I heard a shout from upstairs – “Football is cancelled – the ground is frozen”. That single notice brought the entire house to a screeching halt. Everybody stood down. All plans for the morning scrubbed – it almost felt like a wave of relief descended. Apparently baking is going to happen in the kitchen – lots of baking. This means I will spend an hour later cleaning the kitchen again. Fun.
I’m supposed to be going Christmas shopping with Miss 17 today. Given her current reluctance to even answer “do you want a coffee” with an audible response, I’m guessing it’s not happening. There’s always tomorrow, and she knows it. Why do today what you can do tomorrow? It’s built into teenager DNA isn’t it ?