I got up early yesterday morning and we were out of milk. It was pouring with rain, and in my brilliance of early morning thoughts, decided I would run (yes - that's run) around the block, collecting milk along the way.
So off I chugged down the road, full of enthusiasm and enjoying the unusual feeling of hard exercise. I used to be (in my late teens) a county runner & exercised hard all my life with league netball and badminton until a knee injury about 5 years ago which put paid to all road running. Now I have lost a stone, I thought I would 'treat' myself with a little run-ette. By the time I reached the bottom of the first street I remembered what it is I always hated about running. It hurts. Since I had reached the main road at rush hour, the traffic was queued up and motorists were peering through their misted-up windscreens to see what lardy lump had turned out of bed to jog laboriously through the rain, so I couldn't stop and give in to the sudden feeling I might vomit onto the paving slabs. You see, in my mind I was all confident strides and bouncy hair.....
Anyway, I made it to the shop without stopping and walked back from there lol. When Mark got up I was wheezing around the kitchen as if I'd had 20 Woodbines for breakfast. He took one look at my dishevelled state and asked if I had had a shower with my clothes on. How perfectly fatuous.
I am going to the Exeter Scrapaholix crop on Saturday and very much looking forward to it. Should be able to catch up on a couple of layouts then. Here is this week's SLYMI:
Scrap with 3. I have picked 3 photos from the pointless annual egg hunt. This year we went to Killerton and joined in with the world and his wife who all seemed to be at Killerton that day. I am starting to despise these 'occasions' since they have to be shared with so many other undesirables... We had told Oliver he could go into the kids craft centre at the end to make some Easter bollocks or other but it closed just after we got his egg and the end photo was him with a face that could curdle milk at 20 paces. Honestly, there is just no pleasing some people.
4 comments:
I guess it must have been disappointing for him. Sometimes we just have to endure these type of things - or do we?
It's good that you're willing to sacrifice your happiness for your sons misery. Not many parents would do that ;)
Oh and there was supposed to be an apostrophe after the 'n' in "sons".
Oh Janice you do make me laugh! I know all that feeling about running and the 'once upon a time .....', but hey not now! Long suffering that's what we parents are, or is it just me!
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