We’ve had a lovely few days in the sunshine, which coincided perfectly with Luca finally shaking off his seemingly endless list of bugs and lurgy.
Sunday was their cousin Elizabeth’s birthday party with a Pirate & Princesses theme. I’m giving Sonny the benefit of the doubt that his repeated request to be a princess was just him exploring his metro-sexual side?
On Tuesday we spent the afternoon in their Auntie Fee’s back garden with its tree-house, chickens, ducks, pig, and the tortoise who had recently awoken from its hibernation … in the fridge?!?
Wednesday had us packing our picnic bag for a day at Sale Water Park with their Auntie Sue, Uncle Mike, and a beautiful 14 week old Isabella.
In between we’ve been making the most of our back yard, playing with our dinosaurs, chalkboards, and inevitably a little too much water.
My disgrace began in the supermarket when a lady brought to our attention that we’d dropped something further down the aisle. Retracing our route it turned out what we’d left behind was one of my socks … oh, and a little further back the previous days pair of pants!? I know how it happened although it doesn’t in any way make it right. When I crawl to bed after the boys have sapped my last ounce of energy I have a habit of stepping out of my clothes in one single lazy motion. What I’m forever forgetting to do the following morning is remove the underwear before stepping back into my jeans. The situation wasn’t helped by Luca pointing at the garments whilst shouting “Dada” repeatedly. Or by Sonny shouting even louder “Silly daddy, that’s your nappy on the floor!”
I then managed to compound our embarrassment by trying to load the boys into a car that wasn’t ours. Luckily the driver was also returning to their car and informed us of our mistake just before I’d had a chance to place my foot on the side of the car in order to gain some extra leverage!
A couple of years ago I hadn’t been so lucky when I’d returned from a toilet stop at a service station. Sods law dictated that on this occasion, after throwing my jacket onto the backseat I then opened the drivers door to be confronted by a very confused looking Sales Rep who was mid-conversation on his hands free kit. There must have been a full twenty seconds of stunned silence as I tried to get my head around why a stranger was sat in my car eating a sandwich that looked far healthier than the big Mac I’d bought minutes earlier. As the situation became clearer and my heart sank like a lead weight I managed to mumble,
“This isn’t my car is it?”
As he shook his head I turned away in shame before noticing that not only was the car not the same model as mine, it wasn’t even the same bloody colour! The poor guy must have thought he was being car-jacked by an old school gentleman thief!?!
Then, just as I thought it couldn’t get any worse, on returning to my own car I suddenly remembered that I’d left my coat on his backseat. Seeing him pulling out of his parking space I made the instinctive move of reversing my car out at speed in order to stop his escape. His face on this occasion was less bemused and more annoyed as I jumped out, opened his backdoor, retrieved my jacket, before again mumbling a disjointed apology with my nervous attempt at humour apparently not particularly appreciated.