It’s a wet, yucky Tuesday morning here in Surrey. The rain that has threateningly lingered in the background of my weather app over the last few day has finally come to pass all over us.I’m not happy. We had plans for an outdoor play date with friends and I’ll have to cancel. It’s probably for the best. No one in the house is 100% so a day indoors won’t do us any harm.My sanity has long since departed and I know that we’re well stocked up on gin should the inmates get sufficiently on my last frayed and frazzled nerve. Nothing says ‘ don’t even think about asking me to go out today’ more than appearing downstairs after the early morning shower in a pair of ratty old gym shorts and a T-shirt. They’re clean and fresh but well worn and are never likely to see the inside of a gym again. A bit like me.
Aside from our now postponed morning out there is not much else on Kitchen White Board for today. I could actually get the ironing finished today – but let’s not hold our breath.The shopping is due for delivery earlier than usual because the school run Mums are all on their Easter break. I feel that I’m incredibly considerate on this one. I don’t normally schedule a delivery to arrive here until at least 0930 in order that the poor sod driving the van is not subjected to the abuse he’s likely to get from Anita Getmarootsdone and her gang for merely doing his job. Also I feel that it would be unfair on the neighbours to knowingly add a further vehicle to the cartoon cavalcade that we witness every morning. So a big gold star and a tick VG for me on that one.
We’re no longer with Sainsbury’s for our home deliveries. Last couple of shops have had out of date perishables, a jar of chutney that seemed to have been used in the last instore free-for-all/tasting experience and a couple of substitutions that made me wonder what the packer picks to put in their car if the required grade is not available to them ” No unleaded? Ok.Just put 10 litres of sugar free Tango in it then.”
So I’m now seeing how well Ocado can serve the Berney-Edwards household. One of their flyers fell out of one of the many monthly magazines that I bring into the house and never get round to reading which entitled me to 30% off the first shop and a free smart pass for a year. The Sainsburys’ smart pass was due to be renewed so I didn’t bother renewing, jumped trolleys and popped a celebratory bottle of fizz in my virtual cart. I did a bit of a trial shop – enough to take me up to the required spend – claimed my 30% discount AND a free gift.(We LOVE free gifts in this house!) Two days later goods were all delivered as per order by a very pleasant man who offered to take the bags through to the kitchen despite the fact that he had already clocked Frick and Frack howling and chewing at the baby gate in the background. I thanked him, declined his kind offer and chose to ignore his sigh of relief. Our little cherubs went back to heckling Mr Tumble ,clearly disappointed that I had deprived them of fresh blood and lovely Keith( They even tell you the name of your driver!) sped off down the avenue in his apple liveried van.
Now credit where its due and all that. Fresh produce was all clearly marked, in date and very tasty. Bags are all packed accordingly for fridge/freezer/cupboards and can be recycled and recredited to account if returned to the driver on the next visit. A further money off coupon popped up in my inbox a few days later along with confirmation that my smartpass doesn’t expire until March 2020 (My smartass mouth will go on for much longer than that.) My initial concern that it would be a bit pricier has been mollified slightly having been assured that they have a Tesco price match promise so we’ll see how we get on with the next 4 couponified shops.
As soon as dear Justin starts his ‘Hello. Hello’ theme song there is a flurry of activity. The two munchkins take up their favourite spots on the sofa and I get the iron on to heat up and get the board out as quickly and quietly as possible. They seem fairly content to talk me through the show while I power through a pile of T-shirts. Calder is always the one to watch. Incredibly low attention span – no idea where he gets it from whatsoever.. Fortunately he turns his attention to the Lego bricks that are spilling out of a storage stool and I manage to finish off and get the hot iron put out of reach in time to see that they’re try to make the legs of the ironing board “see-saw”. Morons.
I’m still standing my ground on the whole drinks in cups front and so they sit at their own wee table and have their morning milk and biscuits while I start to sort out food for the day. The fresh delivery has all been put away and I’ve put aside what I need to make our dinner tonight. They both beggared about with their food yesterday so I’m hoping that they’ll both be hungry enough for the broccoli and cheese pasta that I put together. It’s not looking promising – they’ve got a whole crumble up the biscuit and tip some milk over the mess thing going on and so Daddy Killjoy takes table away,wipes hands and both amble off jabbering to one another.
Their healthy sounding lunch has only come about because I wanted to finish off a small amount of pasta that was never going to pass as an adult sized portion and there was some left over broccoli and some cream cheese in the fridge that needed using up. They’ve had something similar before so I remain optimistic.
I get a bit ahead and prep the main part of our dinner and then get some time to play with the Lego while Alexandra and Calder have a flick through the recipe book and audit the Ocado receipt.
Lunch is an unmitigated disaster. Alexandra insists on having me feed her and chews so slowly that I can almost see mould starting to form on her plate. Calder has eschewed his fork in favour of hand picking through the broccoli in search of the pasta at the bottom of the bowl.Both lose complete interest during my “There is nothing in there that you don’t like!” rant and so I go with the if they were hungry they would eat it philosophy and clear it away while I start a game of “Can anyone guess what’s for dinner?” with them.
Daddy Simon arrives on site for some lunch and a handover for afternoon duties so of course they circle around the big table wailing as though they haven’t had food in weeks.
I head off to put ironing away and get in with a bit of admin and maybe even some writing,leaving him to it.
Daddy Simon is off out tomorrow afternoon and evening so I’m on duty all day. It’s highly likely that my low cholesterol diet will have taken a severe donut bashing before 0930 and that I’ll be reading the label on a wine bottle as a bedtime story. At least there’s a bit of sunshine forecast.
“… and that is why I think that Justin might be Mr Tumble too.”
One year ago – how quickly they grow. 💜💙