4am: “mummy, I had a horrid dream, a blue beetle was crawling on my leg”.
I foolishly allowed R into our bed and endured the next 3 hours being kicked, poked, coughed and farted at instead of sleeping . When it apparently became morning, the loo got blocked and nearly overflowed, so despite my eyes being barely open, I had marigolds and bog water right up to my elbows.
Later on while R was occupied doing some painting, I resolved I must do something about the stray sheep that’s wandered into the field at the back of us. The farmer who owns the field told me yesterday it wasn’t his or the farmer to the right of us. So I went about tracking down the numbers of the farmers to the left and straight ahead. Farmer to the left said it wasn’t his and gave me the number for the other farmer. I jotted it down on a piece of paper on the table.
I was also trying to make some florentines for the first time, to take to friends as gifts this weekend. I went to rescue them from sticking to the baking trays and ended up shaping them into Florentine “balls” to cover up the disaster zone. R was pointing at some paint she’d cheekily splodged on the edge of the newspaper and it had gone onto the table.
Me: “it’s ok, it’ll wipe off”
R: still pointing and looking sheepish
Me: I know it’s naughty, you shouldn’t have splodged it there but I’ll wipe it off in a minute”
I then go to call the other farmer. Right where’s the number? That’s right I jotted it on the newspaper… right where R is pointing … and now I realise why she’s looking so blimmin guilty.
Me: “you’ve painted over the number! R!! You’ve painted over mummy’s number, I needed that!! (desperately trying to dab the paint off and read). “… err, 62… no. Right! I’ll have to ring the other farmer back now and tell him you’ve been naughty and ask for the number again. (dialling)
“Hi it’s me again, sorry, I’ll need that number again as since I put the phone down R has painted over it. I told her you’d be very cross. ”
Farmer: (roars laughing) “Ah ha ha ha! Beautiful, beautiful”
Me: “Stop laughing you’re meant to be cross.”
Farmer: (still tickled) “Ahhhh just beautiful!”
Me: (to R having put phone down) See I told you he’d be cross.
The sheep’s still on his lonesome and looking for a home. To be continued…
