Sally's World

I love my husband Dave to bits, he works hard, doing a job that would quite frankly drive me to suicide…but no-one could ever accuse him of being exactly helpful around the house. He had a day off work yesterday, so he decided he was going to have a nice quiet day indoors relaxing with me….

Really??? Is that what he thinks I do???

So after I got the kids up and ready for school, sorted Deion out, did the school run, flew round the supermarket, got back, put the shopping away, put the first lot of washing on, answered some e-mails, did my tax returns…I put the kettle on, and almost, almost got my backside in the chair, the phone rang…it was Deion’s physio to arrange an appointment, so I got the calendar, sorted that out, then it was lunch time, so I made lunch, I almost got to eat it, but there was a knock on the door, a package…Deion’s pads….the wrong size, so I got on the phone and sorted that out, then I put the kettle on to reboil because it had gone cold….I ate my cold lunch standing up while I washed up, I hoovered, I made the tea, went to sit down, but nope…too late, time to get the kids from school, so off I went. Deion had a doctors appointment, so I went there, saw the doctor drove to the chemist, filled the prescription and came home, then as my children stampeded through the house, I picked up various coats, shoes and backpacks, cleaned up the mud that Deion’s wheelchair bought in, got the dinner on and put the kettle back on.

“Blimey,” said Dave, “you wear me out just watching you.”

And, what’s funny is that was the quiet bit of the day.

Its only after he said it, that I thought, maybe it should have occurred to Dave to do some of the chores too, I still had to help the kids with their homework, make dinner, do Deion’s exercises, clear up, bath Deion and get them all to bed…

Of course, Dave is normally coming in from work once the kids are all bathed and in their pyjamas ready for bed, the house is tidied, the dinners done. I know he knows its busy, he’s not silly, but it makes me laugh a little, maybe he thinks the elves come in while I relax on the sofa with a box of chocolates and a cup of tea and it all gets magically done.

So then the kids are in bed, he had a soak in the bath, he came downstairs in a relaxed state and asked me if I felt like watching a film, or if I remembered to pick up his dry cleaning, and I valiantly resisted the urge to scream “for crying out loud, I haven’t had time to use the bathroom, I want to sleep, not watch a film, I want to slip into a coma and stay there until I have to be up in six hours time and do it all over again.”