Just another morning…

Well, so far the day’s been reeeeeally exciting. 😛 At 3:18am I woke up. At 5:00am I was *still* awake. At 5:30am husband left for work. By 5:50am I had given up on trying to sleep and was on Facebook whinging about being awake so early as I wasn’t supposed to wake up until 7am. Oh well, maybe I can have a nanna nap later.

At least I got a few extra things done early this morning, followed by getting various family members fed and out of the house more or less on time. Son2 needed my eTag and sat-nav today so, like a good mum, I took them (along with a banana smoothie I made for his breakfast) out to him while he packed other equipment into the back of the car. I went to install the eTag and sat-nav but before I opened the car door he warned me that ‘it’ wasn’t his fault. Hmmm??? There on the passenger seat was a HUGE pile of bags of KFC rubbish from a few nights ago when he and 4 friends went out together. He didn’t know until he opened the back door of his 4WD this morning that his “friends” had thrown all their KFC rubbish over his back seat when he wasn’t looking. At least now he knew what the cause of the strange smell was for the last couple of days! He’d moved it all to the front seat as he planned to throw all the bags into the Macca’s drive-thru bins this morning but I decided that wasn’t such a great idea and — like a good mum — I took the rubbish, sorted the recyclables from the dead chook and stuck it in our home bins.

PigPenMeanwhile, Son4 was taking far too long, as usual, to get ready for school. With only about 4 minutes left he finally came downstairs to the kitchen to eat breakfast, while still trying to put on his undershirt, school shirt and jumper. I noticed a whiff of ‘manliness’ in the air as he hurried past me to his breakfast while trying to button his shirt. Like a good mum, I helped do up his buttons as he stuffed the neat little triangles of toast I had prepared for him into his face, barely chewing each one before the next was shoved in. I asked if he had remembered to use his deodorant — he said yes. Still suspicious about the stench assaulting my nostrils at such close range, I asked if it was a clean shirt — he said yes. I didn’t believe him but he insisted it was. Only 60 seconds left until the bus was due — no time to change out of this “clean” shirt so — like a good, resourceful mum — I quickly grabbed the Febreze (“extra strength” fabric deodorizer) and told him to raise his arms then generously sprayed the armpits of his stinky shirt. He stuffed more food down as I helped him into his jumper, which would also absorb some of the excess Febreze dripping off his shirt. At least now there was a fresh floral bouquet to help mask his ‘manly musk’. Finally he admitted it was yesterday’s shirt recycled. I explained that no amount of personal deodorant — even on clean, washed skin — was going to fix an already stinky shirt! Aaaaaargh! …what is it about teenaged boys and personal hygiene? Have they no sense of smell?!

At 2 minutes past ‘bus time’ he ran out of the house into the fresh, winter morning air to attempt to get to the bus-stop on time. That was almost an hour ago and he hasn’t come back so I assume he got the bus ok …phew! Just another morning…

Time for a cuppa now!


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