I would like to share with you my day from hell.
It started out with my children both in grumpy teenager mood, you know the deal – answering back, sarcasm, imitating, the works. I then turn around to find the kittens leg has turned green and there are pink paw prints all over the wooden floors, paint is a wonderful thing – but not for kittens. Anyway not the end of the world is it?
Off we go to pick up the western union money Moss sent from the states. Get to the counter, kids restless, wait forever for bitch-face behind the counter to faff around will paper-work, finally she looks up and tells I can’t have any money it as my address doesn’t match my I.D – I am a fraudster! A criminal! She tells me to go away and come back with a passport instead. This would be a simple task if I had the faintest idea where my passport was. “Fine” I tell her (I wanted to say more, but since she has the power of whether I get my money or not I decide against it.) Drag kids back in car go home, search for passport – find it, drive back, Bitch face hands over substantial amount of cash to me, I win! Now let’s pop into Asda for some bits before we go, no biggie. Collect up essential items, milk, crisps, beer, eggs etc, get to check out and I realise my purse with substantial amount of money is nowhere to be found. Just then a very unattractive sgraggy haired woman notices and asks me “Did you leave it at ome?” (Best manchester accents for that one) “No, I just been to western union and picked up some money ” As if to put things in perspective for me she let out the most dramatic gasp I’ve ever heard, I was about to offer her a chair then I realised “i know” I said “Imagine being me! Right kids grab the stuff” we all grabbed a couple of things from the conveyor belt and began walking to put them back, it was at this moment I realised my 9 year old daughter was carrying my 4 bottles of Grolsch, I hesitated for a second then realised’ this is Wythenshawe, they’ll get over it’ After this drama I returned to the western union place to find my purse complete with substantial amount of cash still in it, phew!
Nothing better after this than going to the mothers for a cup of tea, then back to mine to sort out before work. It was at my mother that I recieved a text that I wouldn’t be needed for work today (I’m not getting into that here, but needless to say it pissed me right off)
So my mother being the wonderful person she is and knowing what a disaster my house is suggests I go home, she’ll keep the kids while I get sorted at home – Excellent! I do just that except my tyre decides to die right near my house – 2 hours, i mother, 2 restless kids and 1 stressed out me, later I finally get home having had tyre replaced with a ridiculous-bright-red-special-needs-emergency one, I may as well have “I’M A DICK” plastered across the front of the car!
The rest of the evening was uneventful until bed-time. Kids in my bed watching Charlie and the chocolate factory, boiling hot room, I open the window – bad move. I say good night to kids and just check the window sill for my phone, only to see our beloved 12 weeks on kitten, on the outside walking the beam of death on the other side of the window. We tried not to panic – but we did, it was one of those horrible moments where you know it’s inevitable that he’s gonna fall but you still hope it doesn’t happen. The window wasn’t wide enough to get him so we did our best to coax him in, but he was facing the wrong way, he tried to walk backwards but failed then when he tried to turn round, it was all over. The kids and I watched as the beautiful Joey fell in slow motion to the hard concrete two storeys below. Then, it was like I fight, we were all trying to beat each other down the stairs – of course I wanted to be the first so find him and hide his mangled body from the kids, I was expecting something horrific, what we found was a bloody nose. After I was happy he hadn’t broken any bones I thought I’d call the vet to be on the safe side, I wasn’t planning on taking him in but after the horror stories about burst intestines and internal bleeding, then I got the whole me ”Well if it was my kitten” etc routine I thought it best, with the kids anxious to know if he was ok I didn’t want that on my conscious! So I took him and paid £100 to hear “He’s fine” (worth every penny)
So here I am, beer in hand , Listening to some Jackson Browne and hoping tomorrow will be a better day!
