D rang me from work this morning whilst I was on the bus going into town. Initially I was terrified as this is a rare event and it could only mean trouble. Then I remembered that I'd just left toddler-daughter with her Grandparents five minutes earlier, so I breathed again.
But he did have alarming news - he mentioned someone coming to look at the garden fence (which has been battered for four months prior to this weekend's wonderful weather and now is horizontal across our lawn/mossy patch). A gardener would need need to wander through the house?
Now, I left the house at the same time as toddler-daughter had been at her playtime zenith, and I ran out of time to attempt to wash the breakfast dishes (and the bowls holding last night's snacks). I planned on doing it five minutes before D came home tonight, utilising the maximum chance of it remaining presentable by popping TD in her high chair just before I started tidying: when do children actually help with tidying up, instead of mucking in enthusiastically and ultimately spreading the chaos? It's all karma, I know. My Mum will verify within five minutes of my presence I can make any room look like a hurricane has popped in for a quick coffee.
As my mind raced for excuses to justify not tidying up before I left, a few of D's words seeped into my consciousness. Wednesday and morning. Two days away? I can have the house tidy by then, will just put TD in front of the yellow teddy (Sooty) five minutes before the gardener is due to arrive. Maybe twenty; she does have my DNA.
Now to stop writing and turn my attention to the kitchen. After I've finished my cup of tea, of course.
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