Sunday, 19 October 2008

A sorry tale of mud, field, indignity, and soiled grey Tesco value clothing

One of the awful things about Dig's absence is the terrible and terrifying thoughts that beset me. Like, what if some disaster were to strike?

What if I were driving Shark to the lake today for her sailing lesson and we were struck by an out of control lorry and I died and all my darling children were ambulanced to hospital, motherless and alone in all the world?

Or what if I popped down the Co-op for a bottle of beer, leaving Shark, Squirrel and Tiger glued to Night at the Museum which they think is the funniest film they have seen forever, and I never returned because some druggie outside the Co-op decided to murder me on the spot because I am carrying a bottle and it is brown and the colour brown sends him crazy because he thinks brown is a member of M15 and out to destroy him? What if that happened?

And what about the puffin? I know it sounds unlikely, but horrible things happen. Then there are the heart attacks, the electrocutions, collapsing buildings, falling trees, runaway buses, dropping down dead, all of these scenarios that, given a fraction of a second and the wrong turn, could happen, might happen.

Then I think the emergency services will have to break into the house, and what would the newspapers report? No longer Woman on toilet struck dead by puffin but Mother in drugs death traded triplets for booze.

Of course I have one safeguard against these dreadful newspaper reports that will blight the lives of my little girls forever. It is to clean the hob. Because when the police break down the door - because Shark, Squirrel and Tiger are unable to open it, driven to zomboids by watching a looped Ben Stiller - then the police will look around the kitchen and know that this mother may have been clubbed to death in a Co-op doorway by a drugged out crazy before being mangled to death and simultaneously electrocuted in a road tragic accident by a runaway train, and finally flattened by a dead puffin in a falling tree, but look at that hob. Now her children need protection for ever because that hob proves she cares.

But today none of these things happened. What did happen is that, while running across a muddy field to take this photograph ...


...without my knowledge or consent yesterday's knickers detached themselves from my trouser leg and flew out to greet the people behind me.

8 comments:

Kitty said...

What's a pair of pants between friends. Or strangers? I'm sure it merely added to their Halloween experience. You'll be the subject of their late night conversations for many years to come. x

Merry said...

I think we've all been there with the knickers thing :)

I fret about these issues too and it came horribly true the other week when i had a car accident on the way to collect 3 of mine from ballet; we've no second car and the dancing school don't answer the phone during lessons so my poor darlings were sat for 50 minutes in the changing room wondering what had happened to me until a friend could drive to them and tell them - and even longer before someone with enough spare seats could rescue them.

Oh and...
http://www.patchofpuddles.co.uk/archives/2300
Thank you :)

Butterfly-by said...

Well, sorry, but that put a big ha ha grin on my face. Do make sure you wear clean underwear every day in case the emergency crew finds you and has to take you to the hospital. It can be so embarrassing.

Brad said...

Can someone tell this yank what a 'hob' is?

Google gives me 'House of Blues' While that does seem somewhat fitting...I can't put it in to context.

sharon said...

Sorry, still laughing .... did you retrieve the runaway undies?

The (ir)rational fears litany will always be there, it's another one of those things nobody tells you about before you become a parent, and, believe me, the availability status of your significant other doesn't really diminish them by much!

Suburbia said...

Laughing lots!! I remember my mum pulling a hanky out of her sleeve ot blow her nose, when I was little but it was a pair of her knickers she had absentmindedly stuffed up her sleve instead!

I so identify with your nightmares when your other half is away. I suffer the same awful thoughts. It's so nice to know that we're all completely normal (or all nuts?!!)

Oh and the cleaning thing? I have that too!!

Mean Mom said...

LOL! What a relief! I bet you were wondering where you'd left those!

I considered trading my 3 lads for booze, on occasions. They were just lucky that I didn't drink.

Grit said...

thank you for the comments! mean mom, having never smoked in my life, somedays it seems an appropriate time to start. and brad, a hob is one of those flat things where the gas jets come out from when you want to do some cooking. if you have gas, that is, and not electricity, in which case they are round things. do you believe this ... i used to be a technical writer.