Gym Bunnies

OOOOh, Saturday morning.   I’ve got two kids in two different classes. Its not yet 10am and I’m in the leisure centre cafe hoping someone I like, as opposed to someone I just know, comes to sit by me.

The cafe is a cross between Canada Goose and Mulberry.  I fit into neither category.  My hair, to quote @ScouseBirdProbs is a mixture of dry shampoo, hairspray and hope.  I have a younger child with me who is not sitting nicely drawing/reading/playing something quiet and      sensible but demanding a fruit shoot very loudly.  I will soon cave and give in, I feel ready to cope with the disapproving stares from the GreenTea Mums.  Today, I don’t care.  I’ve got my builders tea (with sugar), my toast (with butter), yesterdays jeans on and I lost my sense of humour when The Cyclist departed at 5am leaving me with a vets appt at 8am and La Famille Terrible to deal with.  I was never any good at French and do not know, nor care, if that makes sense.

Have to return to the vets at 3pm on Thursday.  That will be another early dart from work.  Wonder how long it is before they sack me?

On the plus side – I’ve got Charlie Bigham pies for tea and have just washed my Rosie for Autograph nightgown, which is heaven in a hoodie.

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