5719/18739
I don’t know how any parents manage to guide their tiny children to adulthood. Another disturbed night with my stupid idiot of a son, who is then full of beans and wanting to play at 5am. I then had to keep him entertained until 6.30 when he slightly less stupid sister woke up, even though he spent all that time trying to open cupboards and pull wine bottles out of the rack and on to himself. I didn’t have to drive him anywhere today, but I often do and am clearly in no fit condition to be on the roads. Somehow we get through it alive (though surely with life expectancy reduced).
My shift at the child coal face was over at 8.30 and the kids were taken out to soft play. I tried to go back to bed, but every time I was nearly drifting off the doorbell would ring and a package would arrive for my wife. Like she’d realised what would be happening and set up a variety of delivery people to make sure I got no rest. But why? Why is she trying to destroy me? Maybe I’ve been watching too much Jonathan Creek. It starts to get a bit too fantastical in the later series (though it’s not as weird as when Red Dwarf suddenly loses its laughter track, which was a terrible decision which throws all the timing off).
Anyway the kids were back by lunchtime, but I was trying and failing to sleep and watching Jonathan Creek in the bedroom, whilst eating a steak I’d quickly cooked for myself. I’d just finished it when the doorbell went again and as the kids were keeping everyone else busy I went downstairs, popped my plate and fork and steak knife on a bench in the hall and went to the door. It was another package for Catie. Something pretty mundane judging by the packaging, but it’s easier to get stuff delivered in the countryside. She’s not so stupid as to start spending the insurance money until I am actually dead.
I went back upstairs and thought about finally sleeping.
A crash came from downstairs. Oh shit, I’d left the plate on the bench. And I knew what had happened, Ernie had been zooming around the corridor in his little walker-car and had probably made a grab for it. Luckily all we had to contend with was some mustard on the floor, but I couldn’t help but picture the alternate reality where he’d zoomed past and made a grab for the steak knife and…. Oh God. Do you think Joey from Bread will ever make a film called Sliding Steak Knives.
Of course had the baby been spiked through the head, my wife would have blamed me for my lapse in concentration and not herself for buying home deliveries. There's no justice.
I was lucky this time, but I only have to be unlucky once.
Got the kids through the day today though. I can't wait until they're both over 18 and none of this is my responsibility any more.
