Rain, rain… go to HELL! I’m sick of the sight of ya. Let’s be havin’ ya dry February.
It’s been a wet, damp, moist few weeks. During which time, I have been drenched, binned two umbrellas while battling the wind, and been stuck in a car for over two and a half hours after the school run. And don’t even go there with the TV and iPad usage for the kids. Ouch. Another thorn of guilt in my side…
I am Irish-born, have resided here most of my life, but when I wake up on a rainy weekend morning, it’s like I’ve been stabbed in the back by Mother Nature. I feel cheated. Well, for ten minutes, anyway. And these are the exact same thoughts that run through my head every time… I’m sure I am not alone:
1. Eleven hours, twenty two minutes and 4 seconds of keeping them entertained…
2. Cinema; there has to be a new movie release since last weekend? Movie for them. Pick ‘n’ mix for me…
3. There’s a new dog video on Youtube. That’s at least three minutes viewing x 20 times watched by each child.
4. You can totally justify pizza for everyone for dinner. Because of the rain, like.
5. The kids haven’t seen granny in ages…
6. Maybe we’ll just have a nice, chilled-out pyjama day. That went SO well the last time…
7. It’ll be fine, I don’t feel too bad, actually. Fast-forward to 8pm…
