I have lost my rag with the children after getting fed up that nothing of mine is ever where I last left it. It’s like living with a band of kleptomaniacs with OCD.
We are going to gymnastics and I am buckling Pixie’s seatbelt when I notice that someone has turned on the light.
“Who turned the light on?”
Scooter admits to the deed.
“Is it dark?”
“No”
“So, why would you do that?”
At this point, I can’t help giggling and so he starts to smirk and then all the power of my prevous ranting is somewhat negated. Still, I continue ranting all the way down the M1 to try and make up lost ground.
At gymnastics, I have a fit of laziness, and ring Hub to ask his opinion on having a takeaway this evening. They have no direct dial, at his place, so I ask for the relevant extension number and Libberty, sitting next me, starts to giggle.
“Why don’t you start a sex phone line.” she says, “It would solve all your problems – flexible hours and working from home”