The school run goes on.
This past weekend saw a procession of birthday parties, sleepovers for the kids, interviews (more on that later), and toy library duties. Keira even played her first game of Lacrosse. It might also be her last game, but she gave it a go.
That’s right the Andrews family circus rolls along right into the weekend now, never seeming to pause. I even had to go out and buy anti-fungal cream. (That has nothing to do with the circus metaphor, just FYI). You can’t really get more perfunctory, more thisishowitis than anti-fungal cream, can you? – unless it was required for a really awkward and sensitive part of the body, of course.
(Don’t freak out, it wasn’t.)
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The kids fight, then make up, then fight again. I yell. It makes no difference.
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I take calls from places like the State Library – for instance – and in the background Keira pulls my arm. I put my hand over the receiver, “Keira leave me for just one minute.”
“No, I need to know NOW just how much money my purse has in it and then you need to tell me what that can buy at the canteen*.”
“No, later.”
“No, NOW.”
By now the woman on the other end is chuckling, and I silently thank her for her good humour.
“LATER,” I growl to Keira, and my point is finally taken.
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I’ve recently read:
Alex Miller, Lovesong finished
Tim Winton, Breath finished
China Mieville, The City and The City finished
Kenneth Cook, Wake in Fright started
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This brings us up to now, leaving aside a weekend-long-near-migraine. Unpleasant.
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Oh, what have I written recently? Nothing.
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* Jeez, anyone else’s children obsessed with their school canteen? It’s like catnip for kids.
