It's pitch dark at 6am, a sure reminder winter is tapping us on the shoulder. I savour my precious hour before the kids are roused. Shower, feed the animals, then cook breakfast whilst listening to the news. Civilised, huh? I need it before the 7am scramble.
By 7.30 Abby's throwing a guilt trip at me.
"Can you test me on my Periodic Tables?"
"I tested you last night."
"I know, can you test me again?"
Obviously the worst mother in the world, I choose to brush her hair up in to a pony-tail instead. She's only showing off. Unlike her, I don't know my Periodic Tables, I'm not about to trip into that embarrassing trap again.
"Bec, do you need me to sign your homework diary?"
"S'alright, I've forged it."
"Good lass. You will remember to help Abby off the coach with her case, won't you?" (She's off on a weekend sleepover straight after school.)
Abby thrusts my purse under my nose. "I need some money."
"What for?"
"The cinema and the restaurant."
"But I thought this was a birthday sleep-over?"
"Yeah, but we still have to pay for ourselves."
WHAT?? Bloody cheek. I wouldn't have shelled out so much on the present had I realised. She's in luck, but only because I was going to pay the milkman this morning.
Sam thunders down the stairs yanking at his tie. Having yanked it the wrong way, it's welded in to an undo-able knot. Apparently I didn't get the right length for him the first time around, and the world is going to explode. I use a chop-stick for leverage and finally (on the third go) tie it to his exact satisfaction.
I utter the battle-cry, "Time to go!" and all four off-spring miraculously disappear. Jake follows me to the car.
"Not you."
He slinks back, tail dragging.
The Tardis is maliciously beeping at me again. Regardless of the helpful diagram flashing before my eyes, the door is NOT open, and turning right will not bounce Abby spinning across the asphalt.
Or will it? (Nah,'course not.) Anyway, her seat belt's fastened.
"Abby, just open your door and shut it again, will you?"
"Why?"
"'Cause."
Beccy, as ever, gets almost to the car before remembering to turn back to fetch her history project/hockey stick/emergency lip-gloss/'phone with no credits, thus actually freeing her to secretly ditch those not-quite-swallowed vitamin pills (our fish tank may house the healthiest tank of fish ever to swim this side of Douglas). Not that it matters, as usual we're still waiting for Matt, because he knows all the clocks are set at least five minutes ahead anyway, so he can use this extra bonus to fluff with his hair-gel and inadvertently drive me hoarse. Why he needs to look like an Adonis as he stacks boxes in a warehouse, is beyond me.
Meanwhile, doing a circuit upstairs, Sam's wisely decided not to have any truck with joining us today; he's a motorbike, and as everyone knows, motorbikes don't fit in to cars.
I do so love a calm start to the day.
Ten minutes later, we are loaded up and ready to roll. I chase the coach to the next stop, and park to block it whilst two of my little cherubs leisurely disembark. Sam decides he wants to sit next to me in the passenger seat now, so I continue to hold up three-quarters of King Williams College whilst I endeavour to re seat him, with Matt hissing for me to "Just move it, let's go!".
Halfway through, Sam changes his mind and makes for the back again. (And people say kids like him have no sense of humour, eh?)
With Matt dispatched, I head back home, only to discover Abby's case still in the boot.
Bugger.
Sam let's out a howl from the hall. Darn, he's had a peek at his cookery ingredients for the day. I wish his teacher would stop baking with eggs, she knows they scare the crap out of him. I promise to tell his escort about them, and we wait for his taxi to arrive.
"No Sam sweetie, you don't have time for another cup of tea. Look - look the taxi's here. No, he doesn't have time for a cup of tea, either."
I wave him off and head back to the beeping Tardus. It's only a twenty mile round trip to drop Abby's case off.
Jake and the beach will have to wait.
Meanwhile, doing a circuit upstairs, Sam's wisely decided not to have any truck with joining us today; he's a motorbike, and as everyone knows, motorbikes don't fit in to cars.
I do so love a calm start to the day.
Ten minutes later, we are loaded up and ready to roll. I chase the coach to the next stop, and park to block it whilst two of my little cherubs leisurely disembark. Sam decides he wants to sit next to me in the passenger seat now, so I continue to hold up three-quarters of King Williams College whilst I endeavour to re seat him, with Matt hissing for me to "Just move it, let's go!".
Halfway through, Sam changes his mind and makes for the back again. (And people say kids like him have no sense of humour, eh?)
With Matt dispatched, I head back home, only to discover Abby's case still in the boot.
Bugger.
Sam let's out a howl from the hall. Darn, he's had a peek at his cookery ingredients for the day. I wish his teacher would stop baking with eggs, she knows they scare the crap out of him. I promise to tell his escort about them, and we wait for his taxi to arrive.
"No Sam sweetie, you don't have time for another cup of tea. Look - look the taxi's here. No, he doesn't have time for a cup of tea, either."
I wave him off and head back to the beeping Tardus. It's only a twenty mile round trip to drop Abby's case off.
Jake and the beach will have to wait.
