Deadlines

It is 8pm. My daughter is busy creating an elaborate pack of home-made cards as part of her homework, I ask whatever happened to a standard worksheet? Baby boy has (i think) finally gone to sleep after several false alarms followed by successful visits to the potty. In an attempt to wind him down i sing ‘ba ba black sheep’ at his request and he then has the audacity to say ‘try again’. The dogs were unimpressed when i put down a handful of bonios for dinner because i haven’t had the chance to buy proper dog food and my husband has passed out on the sofa catching flies with his mouth wide open,exhausted after a day at college and his motorbike ride on the M25, which took all his concentration to prevent accidentally ending up on the organ donor list. A prospective client rang earlier and asked when he would be able to call her, i said it may not be this evening because he works late on Wednesdays to which she replied, ‘well can he try and call me tonight as i do need to get my trees looked at’……i dont fancy her chances.

I am typing this blog upstairs because despite all my best attempts, bombs keep exploding downstairs resulting in a permanently dishevelled existence, in fact ‘dishevelled’ is a very accurate description for most things at the mo.

I just overheard my daughter explain to a sleepy/semi-grumpy daddy that she has to cinish her jomework, ‘otherwise i am going to be dead’. I think her teacher needs to let them in on the secret about ‘deadlines’ what is the point in trying to burn them out at 8.

Talking of which, that is why I missed a blog post last night (£1 in the pot to Unicef) because i was reviewing my husband’s homework till 11pm last night and after helping out my daughter with her homework earlier in the evening, i didnt fancy staring at another screen of text. I would hate to know how many hours we lose just struggling to meet deadlines and staring at bloomin screens.

I am blogging for Unicef, thanks for reading.

 

 

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