Half Term And Near Misses

The alarm went off at 7 this morning and filled the bedroom with something or other from the 1980s, prompting W to make some incoherent mumble about turning it off. I don’t remember much else, other than waking up again at half past seven, and watching the minutes tick down while half listening to the children playing Mario Tennis downstairs. I eventually scraped myself out of bed, and wandered past the playroom door just as Little Miss Six explosively celebrated winning a point. “Hi Dad” “Good Morning” At the other end of the house, I look into the living room and discovered Miss Eleven cuddled up on the couch in her pyjamas, watching cartoons. “Morning” While wandering past the playroom again inbetween having a shower, and getting dressed, I stopped for a few seconds to question Little Miss Seven “Are you going to let the chickens out?” (it’s her job) “I’m still in my pyjamas” (insert pregnant pause) “So you’re not. Thanks for that.” The rest of the morning thus far has unfolded entirely uneventfully “ save for the few moments referred to in the title, where I was nearly run over. I was cycling along one of the old victorian streets in town behind a huge boat of a Jaguar S-Type, and the driver decided he was going to parallel park. He did this by skidding to a stop with no signal whatsoever, and then started reversing at me fast. I jumped off the pedals and started pushing my bike backwards “ as I did so the car behind me hit his horn too (I was about to become a bicycle sandwich). A few seconds later I passed the drivers window of the Jaguar and he deliberately wouldn’t look at me “ which was a shame, because I was mouthing all manner of new words at him.