And how curious; what seemed to be the most important items on the Kennedy’s household agenda last night; as I was driving home on empty roads (as everyone else is on holiday except me, aargh!). Well I was anaesthetised by the seeming and somewhat depressing importance of what was on my mental shopping list. You ready for it? Heavens – this is life or death stuff. I confess that I needed:
And fly spray!
All of which had run out. And yes our kitchen is full of flies because I poisoned all the mice, which have, meanwhile been eating the pet guinea pig foods which my five year old drops every day on the floor while feeding them but actually feeding mice.
Worse still he took great interest in dad’s poisoning mouse activity and thought he could do it himself while mum and dad of course had their backs turned. You know those quiet moments when kids should not be so quiet, but you only realise when it’s far too late! But we enjoyed the rare moment of peace anyway no matter what the consequences.
Well my 5 year old thought is was an excellent idea to mix the rat poison with peanut better and then spread his new concoction all over the kitchen floor. Which, when I came down to the kitchen, I saw him spreading with great satisfaction, his personal mix of peanut butter and Rentokil mice killer (arsenic coated grain basically) all over the floor, the cooker, his hands, T shirt and anything else near by. Including, a now-overweight-from-too-much-begging-sausage-dog which was of course taking extreme interest in the curious activity and potentially delicious new paste.
Sausage dog loves peanut butter.
So this week as been a process of preserving humans, killing pests and keeping pets, almost successfully, but the more you mess with nature the more, strange this, but you find you need to buy something else. Well I guess all those products go together,… no loo roll and fly spray type thing.
And while our clothes are being blown and whisked around the garden with knickers floating in the neighbour’s trees, my wife is to the rescue, she has with military precision armed her shopping trolley, in complete preparation. The most powerful fly spray with the ugliest pictures of nasty bluebottles, super strength fly-swats, industrial sized clothes pegs and family packs of the longest ever loo roll you can buy for the whole family (in particular my five year old son), who incidentally is now using ‘alternatives’ to the lack of loo roll.
I won’t go into that, but you don’t really want to use the towels and we need to commission some form of detailed marine excavation to extract unwanted items from the ‘bowl’.
So my wife has everything ready to swing into action– the savour is coming, she gets to the supermarket check out with her new arsenal, and at last she end the curious raining of knickers and pants syndrome in central Maidstone Town.
But the text arrives in my phone and her bank card has been blocked! Our items are stuck in the supermarket and it’s too late as dad is onto the next problem, three drinking teenagers need collecting from a party that is escalating into a fight.
And that was last night – in between of course everything else we are managing here at home, like preparing for Nibiru and other somewhat other trivial matters.
Thanks ansd keeping smiling this weekend … K