Who’s a grumpy heffalump? Yes, its me. I know, I know I’ve been a bit distracted this week. King and Queen of your respective domains as you are, you probably couldn’t care less what’s wrong with your serf (me), but listen up. This might help in years to come.
I’ve been sick. Worst case of Vertigo I’ve had in over a decade. I’ll tell you, if you ever find a partner who’s willing to hold your hair out of the way of the vomit as it’s coming (especially if its in a non-alcohol-driven scenario) then they’re worth keeping.
Yes, your father’s been amazing this week, because I’ve been walking around in a fuzz of confusion and distraction (thanks again to above), and he’s needed to come home early from work so I can get rest, and I tell you, when I hear you out in the lounge room reading stories together, and you get to the part in Dora when you shout “SWIPER! NO SWIPING!”, I tell you, I wish I was out there too.
But when I have been, when we’re fending for ourselves, I have been sullen and short of temper. The television has played babysitter for more hours than I care to think about. And when I do move, its to check my emails, or something as equally insignificant.
My brain though, when it’s decided to function at all, has remembered some stuff. For example, yesterday, I walked in the lounge room to see Riley dancing there, all by himself, to the music on the radio (to Fall Out Boy! The lad’s got style) and when he got sprung, he just grinned and held out his hand so I could join in too.
And Keira, my lovey. The girl who’s gone from a cupboard full of dresses and literally nothing to wear, to the girl who will only wear the ONE outfit, her BINDI one, the one she wore yesterday and is now dirty, but that doesn’t matter because she NEEDS TO BE BINDI.
Details, details. Mere details; but love is in the miscellany. I assure you.
So hang in there please, for me. I’ll be better soon, and then I can play rough and tumble once again. Until then, yes, I have to hold my head completely still, like I’m in a deportment class– otherwise it’ll get ugly and I’ll be calling for your father to do some head-holding once more.
And trust me – he doesn’t want that.
