Thank God it's Sunday

I know someone who is scared of the sea, which from a land locked, land lubbers perspective does initially seem a little strange however put yourself on an old tub of a boat on some excitable waves with a force 5 Hooley whipping up and then I am prepared to (and did earlier this year) possibly give your Thalassophobian the benefit of the doubt. Yesterday though, whilst we looked after Steph’s cousin’s two boys and during an intensely busy duck, swan and other assortments of aquatic fowl, bread feeding session we had a brief but hard shower at which point one of the boys started screaming and crying and it transpired that he has a fear of the rain. Even once in the car the hysteria persisted until we could think and explain ALL the good things that water provides us with; i.e. bath night & wine, a majority stake of about 96% in the manufacture of beer, mediation between sand and cement and giving real purpose to pond pumps the world over. After this and the rain stopping he seemed as right as .... Well I think you get the gist.


Having got over that little dilemma successfully, in the afternoon I made the trek to Asda to purchase their finest handmade pizza so that we could just chill out until X Factor is on, and then argue about the actual definition of talent! Unfortunately Asda in Bletchley who strangely likes to be called George is situated between two unruly neighbours, Mr Ikea a slightly eccentric Swede who loves to build things made of MDF and the football mad M.K. Dons. Often on a Saturday Mr Dons has people round for a kick about and Georges parking is so full up that you have to drive round and round until eventually you run out of petrol. Yesterday just prior to this happening I chanced upon a vacating car and got parked up. As I walked the half mile to the shop I busied myself by sticking pins in an effigy of Pete Winkleman, and then once in and having joined the queue that was snaking its way around virtually all the way to the fresh fish I had plenty of time to write some hate mail as well. Having purchased Saturday’s tea I duly made my way out into the car park for the car only to find that I couldn’t find it. As I systematically walked up and down each of the rows I spotted others in a similar predicament endlessly walking up and down the aisle then stopping to try and get their bearings whilst the mother of all storm clouds positioned itself above us. Of course I did finally find it after wasting another half an hour and slipped in just before the rain really started.

Much later that same evening I was rudely awaken from my power nap with an overriding feeling of sickness and as I made my way (urgently) into the kitchen I was faced with the entire contents of the cats water bowl over the floor and a decidedly manic feline chasing the smallest brown mouse in the world. As I am being ill these two animals are crashing about all over the kitchen until the mouse gets itself behind the welsh dresser (I’ve no idea what he was doing there) So around midnight we were mopping the floor so that we could fight off the cat, and crawl on our hands and knees behind the furniture to attempt to capture the smallest mouse in the world.

If I was to say that I have had better Saturdays than this it wouldn’t be an understatement, but just to top it off when we eventually got to the mouse it had died. So after a brief but moving ceremony in the wee small hours I managed to get to bed, hoping that nothing else would happen