Other things happen


I volunteered at the East Coast parkrun today, which I rode to on my bike. The journey there was annoying; as usual there’s a lot of roadies out there, who’ll happily sit on your tail but won’t take turns in the draft, and then zoom off at unpredictable moments just when you want them to sit up front and take away some wind resistance. Going back is even worse; the air so still and thick with humidity it was like riding through soup. No breeze on my face from the wind ; just stationary air, hot and stuffy.

I got home to find everyone else had gone out and taken the keys with them Nd locked the door, so there was nothing to do but slump on the floor. Eventually my wife reappeared, laden with country medicine, and when she went off to the they’re to see The Tiger Who Came To Tea with La Serpiente, I took Destroyer with me to the doctor so I too could get some pills.

On the way out of the building we bumped into Felix, one of Destroyer’s friends. HE was just coming back from his first swimming lesson and Destroyer was so pleased to see him that she shouted in utter rage at me all the way to the doctor’s office. Then she calmed down and was quite cherubic for an hour (bribing her with cake helped) and then raged and screamed at me all the way home, then fell asleep five minutes from our front door. So that was convenient.

I’m now well stocked up with pills: stuff to loosen mucus, stuff to make my throat less sore, antibiotics to deal with the copious amounts of germs that are making green stuff come out my lungs, and a nice bottle of cough mixture (the same as my wife’s except I get a blue lid on mine and she gets pink, because, er …)

I took a nap; I felt I needed one. After half an hour I woke up to a voice whispering “James”, while my wife was at the other end of the flat. So that’s great. Now we’re being haunted in a building that isn’t a decade old.

Still, I didn’t let it put me off. I spent the rest of the afternoon happily throwing the children in the air. They’re at that perfect age where they enjoy it, and they’re not so heavy that it ruins me to do it. I am not sure which is worse; children who don’t want to be thrown in the air, or children who can’t be thrown in the air. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.

This evening, full of pills, we went out and got drunk and ate cheese and played Blokus. For the first time in years, I cleared all my pieces, thrashing the others, who then retaliated in every other game. Because I deserve it, I suppose.


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