Yesterday will, from here on, be known as ‘The Shittiest Day There Ever Was.’
For the first time in WEEKS, no one was ill. Naturally, as you do when you’re a bit mental, we decided to celebrate by going to IKEA.
We were all in a bad mood before we left.
The golden rule of parenting is that you should NEVER go to Ikea unless you are overcome with spring-like joy and carefree happiness.
The toddler discovered the pick ‘n’ mix. I won’t go into detail but there are now at least 2 shovelfuls of fake smarties under the Daim bar stand.
Husband, who becomes very disagreeable in Ikea, refused to let me impulse-buy an artificial palm. Apparently, we didn’t NEED it. Rude.
But the best fun of all was when the whinging started. They were too warm, too cold, too hungry, too full, too tired, too bored, too happy, too sad, too hairy, too tall, too ‘thinky,’ too ‘snottery,’ too itchy, too ‘dancey,’ too close to a sibling, too gassy, too creatively restricted, too verbally expressive, too emotionally bereft….
Husband did this annoying thing of walking 5 paces in front of us when the whinging was at its peak. He claimed he was maintaining an advantage in the event of a runaway child. This is bollocks.
By the time we made it to the cafe, all my lovely healthy eating of the past few weeks disappeared into a piece of cheesecake.
Obviously this was entirely my husband’s fault.
‘WHY DID YOU LET ME EAT CAKE?!’ I wailed on the journey home.
As he stuttered and searched for the right words, I continued my verbal onslaught,
‘Don’t you CARE that I’m FAT?! Don’t you WANT me to be HEALTHY????!
Is it too much to ask just to have a SUPPORTIVE husband?????’
There was a stunned silence that hung in the air for the rest of the journey.
Going to bed last night, I decided to write the day off and start afresh tomorrow, when everyone had had a nice sleep.
Woke up this morning to find this note on a packet of Mini Rolls.
How dare he.