The milk

I have left out a note for the milkman, cancelling the milk while we are away in Kent. I am very pleased about getting milk deliveries, even though we have only been getting them for two weeks now.

Getting a milk delivery is all part of my plan, in case I die, unexpectedly.

I have a phobia about dying without letting anyone know. Partly because members of our family have done just that and then lain inside the house for three months while the police peer through the letter box and say 'Well someone must be there because the gas fire's on' then when the gas board come round to investigate why no-one's paying such an enormous bill, they actually spy a dead body on the stairs. Well, enough of that.

It could be a phobia prompted by the fact that Dig's always off somewhere or other - Sri Lanka for two weeks when the children were barely six months old was a whoopdeedoo - but of course unlike a single person I have added responsibilities of triplets and no nearby friends because we have triplets.

So it's not surprising I have developed a phobia about this, and it gets worse everytime Dig goes away. My worry is this. That actually no-one would notice if I did die. No-one stops by, no-one phones, we have very little in the way of a routine and Dig's not here to notice. I do worry a bit that he might be here and not notice, but I reckon he would cotton on eventually.

Anyway, say I die without warning. After a few hours Squirrel, Shark and Tiger would look round and wonder where dinner is. Then they would help themselves to some cereal, sit down in front of the computer and squabble over who gets to push the cartoon characters into Slither River. Then they'd go to bed, quietly pleased with themselves for managing to miss the bathtime bit and someone nagging them about boring things like teeth and wee. They'd probably do that day after day till Dig got back from wherever he'd been.

So I got the milk delivered. I reasoned that if I did die, the milkman might notice that the milk wasn't being collected, and buzz. Then Shark might come out, the ambulance would be called and I might just be saved by some miraculous happening, even though I'd been dead two days.

Then Dig of course pointed out that my plan is rubbish. He says of course the milkman would not notice because the children like to bring the milk in, so of course it would not stack up on the step. This worried me for a while. But now I feel much better. Because the children will get a constant supply of milk for their cereal, so if I die, they won't starve.

Anyway, the milk's cancelled, so if I die or not, there's no milk. Because we're not here. We'll be in Kent. Now that's a problem. I'm sure cancelling the milk delivery is a dead cert sign for the local burglar.