‘I think Daddy needs a crunch,’ shouted my youngest daughter, banging on the door of the bathroom.
Can I never have a shower in peace? Honestly, I waited until my husband was home from work, got all four kids a biscuit and plonked them in front of the TV in the hopes of having five minutes of indulgent shower time! Does that make me sound really sad?? What has my life come to when the highlight of my day is a good scrub instead of just a ‘lick and spit’??
Anyway, back to my husband’s apparant need for a ‘crunch’. ‘Tell him to get it himself,’ I shouted back to my daughter. Imagine sending her up to me to look for chocolate. Honestly!
Try as I might. I just couldn’t get back into the mood of the shower. The spell had been broken and I was now just standing in a small shower cubicle and not under a blasting waterfall while basking in the Caribbean’s delicious sunshine! Ah well, such is life.
Back downstairs, I was ready to give my husband a piece of my mind. Sure enough, he was sprawled on the couch, remote control in hand but I was taken aback by the look on his face.
‘God Maria, what took you so long. I can’t get up off the couch!’
I followed his gaze to his leg, where a lump the size of a small rabbit had appeared. He’d gotten a bang in football the night before but hadn’t realised it was so bad.
So anyway, it’s just after eleven o’clock on Friday morning and my husband is nicely tucked up in bed following a visit to A & E. He’s now in possession of, not one, but two ‘crunches’ to get him around!
I’d love to stay and chat more but duty calls… ‘Yes, darling… I’m on my way… would you like a biscuit with that?’ Grrrrr!