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…who imagines the worst

The Lock Down Day 16


07:10 It’s going to be a long day. She opens her eyes and says; “MY CAR”. “Yes darling we will go and play with your car later”. Tears.


07:15 “MY CAR” Tears.


07:30 “Aren’t you hungry?” “NO. MY CARRRRRRRRRRR” Tears.


Repeat this every 2minutes for the next hour.


08:30 “MY CARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR” and with that she collapses on the kitchen floor.


09:00 We’re downstairs. I’ve given in, now doing workout in a garage so she can be in her CAR. There’s a moment when I think, if I were to let go of this kettle bell right now and it launched itself into the car door, just how pissed off would he be? A bit like those mental thoughts when you first have a baby. I used to imagine I’d trip and fall all the way down the stairs with her or if we stood near the window, for some reason, I imagine I’d opened it and accidently dropped her out. WHAT IS THAT ABOUT? For a while there I thought I was completely insane but it turned out all my mates had similar thoughts. So we’re either all loop de frigging loop or it’s normal.


1:38 We’re finally in Waitrose. It’s taken 48 minutes, 43084 games of “guess where Peppa is” which is somewhat tiresome when you only have your back to hide her behind (on the last time I could hear the man behind saying thank fuck for that), 3 snacks, a video call to Grandma and counting to ten in French repeatedly. She lasts 14 seconds in the trolley before losing her shit so I grab the nearest thing to me; a chocolate bunny. Just have it, I say ripping the tag off, holding it in the air and, talking to no-one, I say; “I WILL PAY FOR THIS AT THE END” knowing full well I will forget and consider whether I should do this with a bottle of gin.


11:43 She’s out of the trolley. 5 whole minutes got me down 3 isles. Chocolate eaten she’s now close to being overtired and wild. She picks up a bag of coffee and ball slams it down. I pick her up, and by that I mean I try to pick her up, she goes rigid and I say with gritted teeth “dear god please just give me 5 more minutes then we’ll go home and play with your car”. “NO”. And she body slams down. Lady from 5 behind us in the queue walks past; “Oh you did such a lovely job keeping her busy outside she’s just got overtired” Beryl looks up. Gets in a squat position and shits herself senseless. The chocolate has gone straight through her. She hasn’t poo’d for 2 days and saves it till now. What’s wrong with her do you think, he asked this morning. Are you giving her enough fluids? Does she need more water? Why does that get on my tits so much? Yes of course I’m giving our child liquid, a billion times a day, ANYTHING ELSE PARACHUTE PARENT??? Anyway Isle 4 now STINKS. I get through the remaining isles with her under my arm screaming and me sweating which is not surprising given her, the trolley, the backpack and the fucking thermal jumper I grabbed in error on the way out. I feel very irate.


11:52 VN him. “Can you meet us out the front, she’s covered in shit and I’ve a crate of beer, wine, tonic and ten million bags”


11:54 No reply. No sign. No fucking surprise.


11:55 The neighbours appear as always. They stare at my bags and say the same thing they say every time I unload the car; “My goodness are you feeding the whole building?” Usually I joke about tiny mouths but yet large tummies etc. but not today. “No Joy. It’s all ours. I have 24 bottles of corona here and they’re all mine as are the 7 Easter eggs. Now forgive me for not staying to chat but I have faeces in my nails, an over tired child and personally I’m on the edge of a breakdown.”


1pm She’s washed, fed, played with and asleep, he’s fed, not played with, I’m nothing but the food is away, the pots have been done and I’m about to sit and eat in peace. “Any chance of a coffee” he enquires. Back to counting in French.


1:15pm Why don’t I just relax? BECAUSE HE’S HERE ALL THE TIME and I know full well he doesn’t give a shiny shite but it’s making me over clean. Hands now resemble crusty skin a snake has shed but still there’s a dirty oven to attack with a dishwasher tablet – have I said this before? Likely yes but it’s so good you will thank me. Get your dishwasher tablets and clean. I don’t really care what, ovens, loos, walls, clothes … it works. You’re welcome.


3pm Sat for a grand total of 13 mins while she slept. Now she’s up and we’re off to sort Joan’s prescription out, post cousin’s birthday pressie, order chicken for Easter (now very sure I am not running essential errands but still I’d say my ability to stay sane is essential so what of it) before playing out. She's in her car, out of the car, playing ball, in the sand, in the car, digging, in the car, ball....aghhhhh all this would be perfect if we weren't playing on the communal car park.


6pm Go to feed Dave. He’s still not there. Have I made him up?


6:15 Back in. “Thank god” he says, “She’s just shit in the bath and I’m off for a bike ride. I scooped it out with her toys, they need washing oh and haven’t washed her either.” “Is she sat in shit bath water?” “Erm yes I guess she is. Bye”


6:17pm So much for drying out. WINE. LARGE. NOW.

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