Home alone

Went for morning walk, and, as happens with these things, came home with my mind ticking with what needed doing for the day.

So I managed to convince Grumpy to take the kids somewhere. Anywhere for the day. So off they toddled to … wherever it is they were going to.

Despite the peace and quiet, I felt no need for a relaxing bath, and set about tackling my To Do List, which has now reached the size of a 96 page excercise book. And that was just what had made it onto the list “officially”. My desk is still swamped by scraps of paper and the numerous note pads I own.

Succeeded in working my way through quite a bit of my list (today’s list) and was (almost) looking forward to the homecoming of the boys for a break.

They came, then they went again. Clearly they had missed me terribly and set off for a play with the neighbours without even walking in the door. Well, Grumpy walked in to dump the bag and mumble something.

*sigh* Was I really beginning to miss them?

So I did some more work. It was actually quite nice. But after that many hours, I really did need to move. Had to work out which neighbours they were at, and suggest that coming home for dinner might be a good idea.

Ate, watched TV, bath then bedtime, which was the commencement of “quality time”, including the Reading of Books. The Day My Bum Went Psycho was the choice of book for the evening, and it was my turn to do the reading to Monkey Boy, whilst Grumpy read to Godzilla.

Just as I got to a bit, something about raising a trumpet to his bum cheeks and blowing, Grumpy obliged by giving us a demonstration from his own bum cheeks. As was to be expected, Monkey Boy had to reciprocate with his own, leading to what can only be described as a Farting Competition. Or perhaps Farting War is a more apt description of the proceeding events.

I slammed the book down in disgust, and left the room (adding my own contribution at the doorway and running off giggling).

Now I recall why I had asked them to leave the house this morning.

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