There is this hour every day, after the kids have come home, before their dad appears, when suddenly everybody is shouting in my ear, wanting stuff which I struggle to provide.
The baby wants boob and a cuddle. The child wants his tea. The dog paws at me with her unclipped claws, demanding moist chunks of meaty goodness. The phone rings, the doorbell clangs, and all of this waits until I am changing a stinky nappy, about which the baby is complaining vociferously. And then the sausages / fish fingers / unhealthy chunks of easily-cooked junk catch fire, just as my fingers are covered in poo.
I don't like that hour very much.
Slow Crafting
1 day ago
7 comments:
OMG, I'd forgotten all about that hour... you're so right. It's horrible.
(remembers guiltily spending the odd hour down the pub after work to wait for that storm to pass)
I wouldn't like it either, so you have my sympathy.
I'm so glad that hour has passed for me. Although we do have a dog with unclipped claws demanding meaty chunks ...
I have a rugby-playing son who demands meaty chunks. And the dog is frequently on fire. Other than that, no one talks to me at all. Yes, it's better when they're teenagers :0)
It's only one hour??? It feels like you've just described my life ...
Oh yes, so much better when they are teen agers.
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