The chickens woke me this morning at some ludicrous hour (yes, we have pet chickens). They appeared to be rehearsing their own special version of the Barber of Seville, only in their special one word vocabulary, and without any appreciation of melody. After watching the minutes tick by on the alarm clock for half an hour I finally slid out of bed - not because I was tired; more because I was worried one of the neighbours might visit an equal amount of fury upon the chickens and/or our household that I secretly wanted to.
After the brief excursion into the garden in shorts, wellington boots, and scary hair, I snuck back into the house to have a shower, shave, and get ready for work. The younger children were still asleep in the playroom (they had a “movie night” last night), so I tried not to wake them. 7:30 in our house is generally a scene of mayhem, but this morning was the first morning of the summer holidays.
I can’t remember the last time I was able to go about the morning routine without little people either ranting at each other, attempting to break the “most cereals in a single bowl” record, or being chased around the house to brush their hair, find their shoes, put their lunch in their bag, or so on. Leaning against the kitchen cupboards, sipping coffee, and watching the idiotic chickens through the window was bliss.
After filling various pockets, throwing my backpack on my back, strapping my helmet on, and retrieving my bike from the shed, it was finally time to leave for work. Time to do battle with the local traffic.
In all honesty, the traffic this morning wasn’t bad at all. I think the arrival of summer means many families have already left dodge. Apart from a lunatic walking out in front of me in the middle of town, no swear words left my mouth at all. This is unusual.
Anyway. It’s lunchtime now. I’ve already eaten the poor excuse for a sandwich I brought with me (hastily made this morning with no loving care at all). I guess I should get on with headbutting the desk.