What's for breakfast?
I have to share my morning - if not with you, probably many years later on the therapist's couch.
It's always an early start as school is many miles away, so it's a juggle of trying to get reluctant kids to eat breakfast rather than play computer games, dogs to do what dogs do without fence hopping, me combed and dusted sufficiently not to frighten the other less harrassed mums, time to write a quick blog and read the overnight emails... you know a normal, modern, domestic scene.
Another part of my routine is the refilling of the office coffee machine and assembling enough cups and milk to keep the crew caffeine-charged for another day.
This usually involves me teetering over to the office still in my pjs with a very full tray while Oscar and Tess charge around me like banshees. For some reason me doing a Julie Walters-esque Mrs Overall impression really thrills them!
Only not his morning.
Total silence for my early morning coffee run.
My honed Poirot-skills dulled by the early start thought, 'something is different and possibly better!'
Coffee filter changed, I walked back to the house and realised that it wasn't that something was missing, it had been added.
Oscar was sitting in the kitchen in the middle of his bed with a huge rabbit in his mouth.
Tess was standing by the door sheepishly, like a sneaky little boy delighted that his big brother was about to get a telling off!
Oscar is not the brightest, and we don't yet have a command that says, "Pick up your rabbit and come out here and then drop it." So he dropped it in the kitchen and legged it.
I was now in the 10-minute countdown area of needing to get dressed, apply warpaint and get Kieran to clean his teeth, put on his shoes, his jumper, blazer and coat while opening his and the dogs' advent calendars.
No time for rabbit disposal.
Husband was enjoying a rare lie-in, but it was an emergency and it is one of those moments were sexism works in a woman's favour!
Husband, very scantily clad, put yukky dead rabbit in bin liner and gave to excited son to put in the skip (probably breaking all recycling rules but dead bunny would definitely never have fitted in our tiny little food waste box!).
School run now completed, first and only coffee for me downed. Deep breath, write another blog, get on with day.
Wonder what wildlife we be out tonight going through our skip...?
It's always an early start as school is many miles away, so it's a juggle of trying to get reluctant kids to eat breakfast rather than play computer games, dogs to do what dogs do without fence hopping, me combed and dusted sufficiently not to frighten the other less harrassed mums, time to write a quick blog and read the overnight emails... you know a normal, modern, domestic scene.
Another part of my routine is the refilling of the office coffee machine and assembling enough cups and milk to keep the crew caffeine-charged for another day.
This usually involves me teetering over to the office still in my pjs with a very full tray while Oscar and Tess charge around me like banshees. For some reason me doing a Julie Walters-esque Mrs Overall impression really thrills them!
Only not his morning.
Total silence for my early morning coffee run.
My honed Poirot-skills dulled by the early start thought, 'something is different and possibly better!'
Coffee filter changed, I walked back to the house and realised that it wasn't that something was missing, it had been added.
Oscar was sitting in the kitchen in the middle of his bed with a huge rabbit in his mouth.
Tess was standing by the door sheepishly, like a sneaky little boy delighted that his big brother was about to get a telling off!
Oscar is not the brightest, and we don't yet have a command that says, "Pick up your rabbit and come out here and then drop it." So he dropped it in the kitchen and legged it.
I was now in the 10-minute countdown area of needing to get dressed, apply warpaint and get Kieran to clean his teeth, put on his shoes, his jumper, blazer and coat while opening his and the dogs' advent calendars.
No time for rabbit disposal.
Husband was enjoying a rare lie-in, but it was an emergency and it is one of those moments were sexism works in a woman's favour!
Husband, very scantily clad, put yukky dead rabbit in bin liner and gave to excited son to put in the skip (probably breaking all recycling rules but dead bunny would definitely never have fitted in our tiny little food waste box!).
School run now completed, first and only coffee for me downed. Deep breath, write another blog, get on with day.
Wonder what wildlife we be out tonight going through our skip...?
Comments
Then again, I have pet rabbits so it's maybe not a good idea for them to get the taste of blood.
Many years ago my dog caught a bunny in front of a mother and child on a local playing field - mortified I was apologising profusely when the child said 'cool mum, what a great dog, can we get one' !!! I beat a hasty retreat!