(Happy New Year)
On Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday mornings I have to be up to
get Ferretfingers up and ready for his various activities. Wednesday is particularly important as I have
to transport him to college for his Recycled Art course, where he is ‘enabled’
by a personal assistant from LDNE. I don’t
like the idea of the PA hanging around in the cold waiting for us to arrive so I
aim to get there as close to 9 as possible, for the 9.30 start. This means I aim to leave the house at
8.45. We never achieve this but we do
aim for it.
Wednesday is when Thunderthighs goes into his college course
in the afternoon. We do ‘the big shop’
that morning, one week Tesco the next Aldi.
He comes with us to drop off Ferretfingers, we then proceed to the supermarket
and are usually home again by 10.30.
Ideally the clock radio should wake me.
Failing that Thunderthighs coming in from his
paper round.
The problem is Fester turns the radio on as soon as he’s
awake enough to move. He then goes back
to sleep, snoring so that I can neither sleep nor follow what’s being said on
the radio. I’ve been complaining about
this for almost 25 years; and shall
quote it as mitigating circumstances in the manslaughter trial. Also the cat keeps demanding to be out at about 5am, which I
ignore for as long as possible, so when I do get back to sleep I’m shattered and out for the
count.
This morning, first class back after Christmas, I was awoken
by Nick Robinson saying “It’s twenty to nine.”
Leapt out of bed and opened the bedroom door to find Thunderthighs sitting
on the loft staircase looking mournful.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“The radio was on.”
“That doesn’t mean I was awake. I didn’t shout hello when you came in from
your paper round. When did you get in?”
“Twenty past eight”
“Oh for goodness sake! Next time you come in and I’m not up wake me
up. We need to be out by a quarter to
nine.”
This conversation took place whilst I was cleaning my teeth
so it would be accurate to say I was frothing at the mouth.
Thunderthighs ascended into his loft.
Ferretfingers was roused and we both got dressed without
washing.
We went downstairs and got his bag ready, there was no time
for breakfast.
Thunderthighs came downstairs and we piled into the car.
Fester apparently, and wisely, oblivious to all this, snored
on.
We roared as fast as the speed limit allowed through the
various road works on the Coast Road and were at the college by 9.20. Handed Ferretfingers over with apologies and
the news he hadn’t had breakfast. Being
the size of a small haystack missing a meal is the least of his worries.
When we got to Tesco I handed the trolley to Thunderthighs
with “I’m going to the cafe. I need a coffee and biscuit. You know what we usually get, so
you can get it and I’ll catch up with you when I’ve eaten. You ok with that?”
He was.
In fact I think he quite enjoyed it.
Coming out of Tesco’s I said “The first thing your father
will say is ‘Have you got the Guardian?’”
“No the first thing he’ll say is ‘Why didn’t you wake your
mother?’ Then he’ll kill me.”
“He won’t kill you, he’ll just be his usual miserable grumpy
self, and then I’ll say ‘If you didn’t put the radio on and snore through it
all the time it would wake me up’ and then we’ll bicker on as normal.”
However
When we got home Fester opened the door with an impish grin
and
“Is everybody having a lovely morning?”
Little does he know that next week I shall revert to using
an alarm clock.
That’ll larn ‘im.
Wonderful...
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