Grumpy gone, but not without me lamenting the leg-hair thing. His extremely useful suggestion is “so, just stay under water the whole time”.
Lunches made slightly easier by well-trained eldest son having placed his leftover sandwiches in the fridge yesterday after school, so only had to make one batch.
This leaves time for me to race around and locate all required swim paraphernalia, have mild panic when can’t locate bottom component of my bathers, my mind wanders to thoughts of my bikini line and I almost can’t breath at thought of sight of me in bathers.
Hopefully the pool area isn’t so dark as to draw attention to the luminousity of my legs.
Snacks packed, kids ditched, bathers on and we successfully make it through the lesson. The “stay under water” option was not an option, as we changed pools. The “no lifting arms up” was also thwarted by intense desire of teacher to embark on every possible activity that requires lifting of arms to show off lack of depilatory related visits to beauty therapist.
Walk to school, walk home, plans for dinner changed on a whim due to lack of tomato and lack of giving a shit by me, kids tossed in what started off as a Spag Bol Soup bath, whereby the toddler is usually tossed in without much of a wipe down, and concludes abruptly thanks to the hysterical screaming of a 6-year-old, yelling “THERE’S POO COMING OUT OF HIS BUM AND IN THE BATH!” whilst I was on a call, to another school parent, trying to organise my kids getting to school tomorrow morning.
Have no idea if they can take my kids or not, or even if they now want to, given the level of hysteria and screaming 18-month-old who not only didn’t want to remain in his bath, but also appears intolerant to shower.
That sorted, the kitchen being dealt with, washing up done, I make the silly mistake of sitting for just a moment. Chippie wanders over with a quarter of a Vegemite sandwich in each hand. I have no idea where they have come from. Am fairly sure it’s not a lunch box, as am pretty convinced I washed them not half an hour earlier. In fact, yes, yes I did. There they are, washed and awaiting to be stuffed tomorrow morning.
Receive another call regarding collection of my kids for school in the morning, attempt to call first school parents back and find Chippie on phone saying “Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi”.
I can hear voices on the other end, have vague recollection of children doing horrendous things like ringing China. Thankfully, discover him having simple conversation with the woman who says “The number you have called is not connected. Please try again.”
Grumpy arrives home and I immediately send him out again to Get Me Wine.