So now that I have a couple of hours ‘to myself’ each afternoon (which actually only an hour and a half, after you count travel time to and from school) I thought I’d do all the cleaning things that you can’t really do with the kids about.
So I cleaned out my oven. Who knows that last time that baby got a good cleaning. Probably the last time my MIL was up. She seems to be able to find stuff to clean that I have overlooked.. I think it’s a talent. Or maybe before that. Cos I found a couple of charred crinkle cut chips in the back. And I honestly can’t remember the last time I bought those.
Just as I was getting in to it, scrubbing away all the residue built up from so many weeks/months/years, I broke the glass panel on the inside of the oven door.
Which leads me to another point. I read somewhere that when something bad happens, it’s a good stress reliever to swear. Don’t go asking me to support that theory with references. I can’t remember. All I know is that it was tried and tested. And while I’m not sure if I was feeling less stress after my tirade of potty mouthed words, the words used certainly captured the feelings and sentiments of the moment.
Lesson learned? That oven could’ve gone a few more weeks/months/years without a good clean. Cleaning can be destructive. Therefore, evil.
On another note, it was the eldest’s Easter service at school today.
I didn’t go.
Don’t start judging. At least til I give reasons that you may judge more harshly.
I didn’t want to go. Plain and simple. It was in the afternoon. I’d just got the younger two off to nursery. The minister bloke that goes to the service is boring. And he dyes his hair black. Which disturbs me. Cos maybe he’s an Elvis impersonator in his spare time. And it’s always really busy. And hot. And the parents are noisy. Seriously.
But – I did use my time wisely. I tried fixing our car’s windscreen wipers. And I bought bread. Umm….. and I cleaned out the washing machine…. And I phoned a garage.
And am I glad that I didn’t go. Karma was good to me. As pay back from the oven incident, I managed to avoid the STENCH of bums and pits at the Easter Service. I kid you not. When I went to the school to collect Eilidh, I passed through the hall where the service had been held. And it was REEKING. I couldn’t have imagined having to sit through that for an hour while having to inhale the bodily odours from a couple of manky, smelly parents.
And also, cos the oven’s not working I got to give the kids a McDonalds meal without feeling too guilty about contributing to their childhood obesity.