Back on the vegemite-sandwich-get-your-shoes-on-repeated-38-times-in-seven-minutes-school-drop-off-pick-up-swimming-lessons treadmill, then some crazy running around and organising and bag stuffing for tomorrow night’s Mums’ Night Out!
A friend arrives, complete with own 3 kids, and dinner, to help stuff the bags. That done, and lolly bags for the goody bags rescued from toddlers (and, erm, us), chocolate shots sorted and table inaccessible due to goody bags, they head off.
Chippie put to bed, Monkey Boy and Godzilla told to have bath and get themselves to bed whilst I finalised a few things before coming in to kiss them goodnight.
As per standard, there was laughing, yelling, fighting and, finally, a “I’m gonna win and the last one has to eat it!”
Eat what? I ponder. Then consider this particular ponder relatively stupid, and instead ponder all the ways I can get myself into an isolation unit …