I am sitting here in my dressing gown having tidied my bedroom to a certain degree. It now looks like a slightly messy 'ready for Christmas' room rather than the scene of a suicide bombing. This makes me happy as I have achieved something this weekend, other than eating my body weight in Christmas fare and generally lolling about like an overstuffed hobbit.
I have not been on my blog for a little while and I have not visited other people's blogs either. This is most remiss of me. My absence from other people's blogs is verging on the rude and I apologise to you if I have not been by.I think the reason for my lack of visits is a feeling of guilt. When luxuriating in the world of the blog I always feel that I should be studying, or cooking tea, or perhaps talking to my husband about... well, anything really.
At this moment he is downstairs sorting the boys out. One of them has lost the keys to the side gate and my Man is not happy. This is a kind way of saying that he is very pissed off and thinking of having said child adopted.I can understand his anger as the keyring also carries our back door keys and if we are burgled it will be down to our 12 year old.
We will not let him forget that blame for any future criminal activity involving entry via the side gate or the back door will rest entirely on his shoulders.
This event is setting him up nicely for his teenage years, which, by the way, start on Thursday. On Thursday my little man will be 13 and he is obviously preparing us in advance for a deluge of teenage-ish irresponsible behaviour. I fully expect him to come downstairs on Thursday around 2pm with the beginnings of a beard and a full blown bad tempered grump.Obviously he will no longer be able to talk in fully rounded sentences and I imagine he will start going to all night cider parties in the park.
The loss of the keys is a nice way to start the week.