The day started so well. Up early, showered, dressed, breakfast with the children, coffee. A few moments after our eldest left for college the wheels started to fall off the wagon. My other half shouted from the kitchen:
“She’s left her lunch on the kitchen counter”
Rather than chase after her, every fear she had about eating disorders came tumbling out, and I nodded while she continued on, wondering why I was being talked at, rather than Miss 17. As soon as she had gone I sent a text.
“You forgot the lunch that Mum spent ages making last night”
“Oh no! Can you bring it to me? I’m still waiting for the bus.”
Two minutes later I was heading up the road on my bike, full wet-weather kit on, puddles spraying in all directions, dodging the various headless-chicken parents driving their children to school, because of course they will dissolve if they stand in the rain for more than a few moments. I was nearly run over three times inside a minute – and of course I didn’t have the helmet camera on. The final time – after delivering lunch to Miss 17 – was a classic – a woman unwilling to wait for me to pull out of a junction while another driver waved me out accelerated directly at me, causing me to lift my bike physically into the middle of the traffic. She missed me by inches, her stare directly ahead – not daring to look at me as she hurtled past. I swore loudly and shook my head.
The morning at work passed relatively quietly – until the phone rang at lunchtime. Miss 17 had called my other half from college in tears. She was going to fetch her immediately, and would drop her at home. Could I go home and try to find out what was going on? Also – because my other half’s Mum is in hospital (an accident – she will be ok), could I also make dinner for the kids, and do the usual 10,000 step trudge around town to ferry Miss 12 between dance and football? I went home and cooked dinner, but scratched all plans to take anybody anywhere – there was no way I was going to leave Miss 17 alone.
Just to cap the day off, while sitting with Miss 17 in the study earlier, a flea appeared out of nowhere and landed on her hand. Within minutes I had cleared the room and set off a fogging spray-can, to fill the room with pesticide. I’ll leave the room closed until tomorrow morning. I also got the children to clear their bedrooms – they will receive the same treatment first thing in the morning. I imagine the cats have brought fleas back into the house again, but I’m still furious – we spent a fortune last year waging war with fleas – fogging rooms, and treating the cats repeatedly.
Maybe tomorrow will be a better day ?