So this evening I really felt like a kid again, fighting over the almost empty pot of cookie dough ice-cream with my siblings. You’d think at age 20 I’d have got over it, but it just tastes so good! Plus, I’m still strongly attached to the idea of principles. Why should my 12 year old sister eat all the remaining cookie dough when there are two other people at the table dying for a mouthful? So you see my point. It’s like the nurse eating all the sick man’s grapes. Almost.
Kids are annoying aren’t they? As I sit here at my laptop at 9pm on a Saturday evening my sister and her school-friend are watching last year’s Britain’s Got More Talent (call me old-fashioned but who watches repeats of LIVE shows from that long ago?). So yes, here I am, seated on the landing in the dark outside my bedroom (the signal is pretty dire in my bedroom and it’s too much effort to switch the light on), only wishing that the TV were free for some much-needed Sex and the City reruns. But all I can hear is a tedious scraping noise. Is it the dog? No, it’s a little brat writing furiously on a chalkboard. I didn’t even know we had a chalkboard. Looks like somebody’s playing teachers. Oh, I remember when.
Nothing sounds as good as wheels coming up the drive. The mother has come to pick up her child, and the TV is all mine. And my Dad finally gets his dinner.
Watch this space.