Up – not early, but excited – and needing to deliver offspring to appropriate educational facilities before heading off, with Chippie, for a day of play … by which, *ahem* I mean ‘work’.
My happy mood and excitement were quickly quashed when I discovered, first up, that the coffee machine had leaked and my coffee was significantly below par, and Chippie refused to do anything that even remotely resembled some form of getting dressed so we could leave.
By the time he had successfully resisted getting dressed seven times and had Climbed On To The Table To Escape My Grasp (?????) I was ready to lose it.
So I did, and discovered that putting on a firm, yelly type voice, demanding he get his shit together, NOW, had way more impact than the calm, rational, polite requests and demands. I pondered why I bother with the hours of nice, calm, rational stuff and how much time I would gain each morning if I just started off yelling.
Monkey Boy added his own little piece of obstruction. Before we ventured outdoors, into the unrelenting rain, via the ever increasing mountains of washing that I tried to avoid eye contact with so I could the not have to think about it, I was pissed off with the world. Or, my kids, anyway.
Running slightly behind schedule, Chippie and I eventually made it to our destination; Kmart in … somewhere that started with ‘Ch’ and wasn’t the one I thought it was. Thankfully, I had twigged before heading off