Saturday 26th
We HAD to leave at 11 am to be on time for a lunch invitation from a cousin of mine on the other side of London.
Son and I woke up, installed an exercise bike, had breakfast, showered and got ready. All she had to do was (i) make some derogatory comment about what I had chosen for our son to wear and (ii) get ready herself.
My son and I were ready on time but she wasn't: we left at 1130.
Sunday 27th
But, damn, she was ready on time, on the dot at 10:45, for an appointment with her friend whose son was having a birthday party.
All night I squeezed into our son's bed as he was suffering from a fever and I knew that he was likely to run a temperature at night - and it duly came at 4:30 a.m.. Was I told in the morning, 'you were up last night, I'll get him ready and take him to the birthday?' ummmmm ... no!
Monday 28th
A peaceful day putting up pictures around the house - the ones I had had ready since August!
Do I open up? Speak about my irritations? I don't know.
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