I’m going back to work yet my family don’t have much faith in me

BIT of a Red Letter week for me this week as I psyche myself up to rejoin the workforce. From now until the forseeable future (or until I get sacked!) I will be sitting at a desk, two days a week, actually working.

The children are highly amused. They think I do nothing but lounge around all day making cups of tea and watching daytime telly.

There is an element of truth to that but I also do housework occasionally and the odd bit of actual work that requires as little effort as possible.

Truth be told I’ve gotten used to being a stay at home mum and now that they’re both in school I have to concede it ‘s the best job ever! I like schlepping around in my dressing gown, having a leisurely breakfast, checking my emails and not talking to anyone. If I was left to my own devices I would probably never work again. I’d just keep buying newer, fluffier dressing gowns.

But someone has to fund my online shopping habit and seeing as me and the delivery man are now on first name terms and I’ve taken to hiding the boxes in the neighbour’s bin, I realised it was time to go back to work or else face bankruptcy and divorce.

‘What time do you have to be in work for?’ The Eldest inquires. ‘9 am’ I reply shuddering. The kids and Himself start falling around the place laughing. I am not known for being a Morning Person.

‘Hahahahaha you’re barely awake by 9 am never mind dressed and cosmetically acceptabl,e’ says the smarta*** husband of mine.

‘Don’t worry, I will be,’ I tell him sounding doubtful, even to my own ears. I wonder if I could shower and do my hair the night before, and sleep in my make up?

That would give me a far better chance of being ready on time.

‘Do they know that you’re grumpy in the mornings?’ asked The Youngest. ‘I am NOT grumpy in the mornings. I’m just reflective,’ I snap. ‘What does reflective mean?’ ‘Grumpy’ replies her father. It’s great to have such unwavering support from my family. ‘And by the way. I have always worked, you lot just never noticed because I work from home,’ I tell them haughtily.

‘What? You mean checking your instagram?’ says the Teenager high-fiving his dad. God sometimes I dislike them intensely.

‘Well things are going to change around here from now on,’ I tell them. ‘ There will be no more bringing you breakfast in bed, or making your beds for that matter. I am now a working woman and youse are on you’re own!’ The Eldest has gone a little pale. ‘Mam????’ ‘What?’ ‘How do you make toast?’

IF I WAS LEFT TO MY OWN DEVICES I WOULD PROBABLY NEVER WORK AGAIN. I’D JUST KEEP BUYING NEWER, FLUFFIER DRESSING GOWNS