Friday, 13 November 2009

It never rains but it pours!

Ugh! What a horrible, horrible day. All night the letterbox was bang, bang, banging in the wind. And we got up to torrential rain and flooding outside as well as more flooding in the kitchen courtesy of the dishwasher that I haven't touched all week. So after getting soaked through on the way to school (but thanks to the kind Mummy who lent me an umbrella for the walk back) I got changed into dry clothes to tackle my indoor flood. My father-in-law came over to help with this. Seems that all the water that I thought I was draining out was actually just sitting in the pipe and running back into the machine and leaking out on to the floor. Well, that's what we think, anyway. Hubby had set up some bizarre plumbing method when we first got the machine but I got father-in-law to put things back the way it should be for now. Hopefully this will stop the floods. WHY CAN'T I LIVE IN A NORMAL HOUSE???? It really stank too.

The rest of the day as been less than delightful too. A very boring fight with a laminator, I can't be bothered to go into. And the older kids have problems, too. My big girl, Honor, came home very upset (and I was a witness to this) because one of the girls in her class is having a 'secret' birthday party and didn't invite her. Now of course I understand, because we do it ourselves, that you can't invite everyone. That's life, but I saw myself how the little madams were behaving all sneaky, whispery and sniggery in front of Honor as they went off after school. Oh well, suppose she'd better get used to it. Seems the grown-ups don't behave any better.
Henry was VERY quiet on the way home and looking flushed in the cheeks. At home he was complaining about not feeling well. He has had a scab under his bottom lip for about a week now and I was beginning to suspect impetigo. I looked at the clock, it was 4pm, and wondered if I should call the docs now or wait 'til Monday. Well, as this happened to Honor a couple of years ago, I know this will need an antibiotic cream, so maybe if I call the receptionist now, she'll advise me on what to do cos they're helpful like that, aren't they? WRONG! No, the receptionist was very unpleasant. 'Why are you phoning now?,... it's a bit late, ...he's had it HOW long???...'
and so on. So now I'm a neglectful mother who has let her son go a whole week with this scab (but it's not urgent enough for them to help me tonight). I have to ring back at 6 to see if we deserve a prescription, or not.

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