It’s been an odd sort of a week, somehow.
I’ve been absolutely frantic with work – two big copywriting jobs for regular clients came in, both with short deadlines, which I had to meet, along with doing all the usual sort of work with the business. There’s been lots of domestic stuff going on – my best friend leaving after a visit this month, and various bits and pieces.
And then – joy – a fuel panic which meant we didn’t have any petrol in the car, as all our local stations ran dry. Which means we may not get our trip to Brighton to visit friends next week, which I’d really been looking forward to. Sigh.
This morning it became obvious I couldn’t get Flea to school, and she’d need to stay home. Serves me right for choosing a school 8 miles from home, I know.
But here’s the thing. I absolutely adore those unexpected days you get to spend with children. Flea stayed in her pyjamas all day, which she’s never normally allowed to do.
We drew a world map. I taught her how to play Scrabble (boy has she inherited the family Scrabble gene), and we watched The Princess Bride and laughed like fools.
We made up songs, and sang them really loudly. We made sandwiches for lunch, daring each other to eat pickled cabbage. Then Flea played Moshi Monsters while I caught up on emails. To round the day off, we got dressed and walked to the supermarket for bread and milk, Flea racing ahead on her scooter.
It doesn’t sound like much, I know. But we don’t have nearly enough days like this. At the moment, the reality of my work situation means they’re just a bit rare. And all the more precious for it.
So go ahead and keep panic buying the petrol, now I think about it. We’ll do just fine at home.
