Dig has returned home. At 10.30 this morning. By 10.45, with a babysitter in place, or at least Dig slumped in front of a non-working computer, I shout that I am off to do some Christmas shopping at the charity shops. Departing, I say I have to check the charity shops every day now because I am very poor after being forced to book a cottage in Cheshire due to his continued absence in Yemen.
Half an hour after I am gone, Mr Pod, the neighbour who lives on the middle storey of our three storey house, knocks at the door to complain about the noise the children are making above him. Apparently, while Dig has nodded off downstairs suffering from jet lag, the children are jumping onto the floor upstairs, which is his ceiling, while shouting 'Fly unicorn fly!' at the tops of their voices. He grumbles that his picture has fallen off the wall and his ceiling light is swaying. And, of course, they have woken him up because he works shifts, so today is his night.
At lunch time I wake Dig up again and instruct him to give everyone a cheese sandwich with pickle. Dig cannot find the block of cheddar bought yesterday, instead locating the rancid bit of Wensleydale at the back of the fridge bought last month. And he can only find the chilli pickle. When I return two hours later, Shark, Squirrel and Tiger leap at the offer of some scrambled egg, even though everyone hates it. I can deduce from this, and the discarded chunk of green Wensleydale in the middle of the table, that Dig's lunchtime efforts have not been appreciated.
When I do get back I have a big loud lament. I report to Dig my total failure. I have a toy seahorse for Shark and a jigsaw of a ballerina for Squirrel. Everything is on ebay I cry. I am broke I blub. I will have to go back tomorrow I say. Dig says he cannot take anymore, so he makes a speedy electronic payment of a satisfactory amount into my bank account and says on Tuesday get down the craft shop and do all the Christmas shopping in one go.
On consideration this is possibly an effective strategy to use again next year.
Monday, 17 December 2007
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