Talk about cosy
AS YOU MAY BE AWARE, Mrs P and I are awaiting the arrival of another grandchild. This has resulted in a great deal of upheaval to our lives, so much so I am beginning to wonder if it’s my beloved who is about to pop and not the Boomerang Child.
Attending a late-term scan like I did last week was an easy job – and all is well, thank goodness – but it seems our very own house is filled with baby stuff at the moment.
We are a bit like a warehouse. Late-night stumbles down the hall to the loo come with the feeling at any stage I may have to flatten myself against the wall in case I get run over by a forklift going about its duties.
Now, I’m not a completely miserable old sod. But when it comes to the square footage I’ve worked hard for over the years being consumed by piles of baby clothes, toys, cots etc. I have had to put my foot down.
Carefully, of course, in case I hurt my foot on some of those wooden building blocks in that box that’s too small for them all behind the door.
Anyway. We had a So we’ve got all this stuff at our chat. And it seems I place and the other day Mrs P was may have got the going through it. wrong end of the stick. Or as She Who It seems friends and family have Must Be Obeyed put it, I wasn’t come to the party, too, and made or listening when it was all decided. gifted various garments for bubs
It seems we are keeping all the when she arrives. baby stuff at our place for a couple There’s also a rather large colourful of weeks while there’s some tea cosy- (remember them?) shaped necessary last-minute work taking woollen hat thing, which I’m assuming place at the home of Boomerang someone has just plonked in a pile ●
Child and her fella, Builder to get rid of and it’s ended Boy. up with us. Naturally,
Presumably, once because I’m a bloke it’s done we’ll hire a and we have to do team of mules, such silly stuff (it’s sherpas, a big the law), I put it elephant, three on my head and container trucks start prancing and a crane to take around the room it all back. for a laugh.
Apparently, we It turns out the talked about it. ‘hat’ is quite warm.
In all honesty, I don’t Instantly toasty, in fact. recall doing so but I agree with Mrs P it experience has taught me not to would be ideal for “in-house” use on stress. It’s only baby stuff and it will those cold late autumn/winter be gone sometime soon. Besides, mornings. You know what I mean; the maybe I can use the same argument ones that are creeping in a bit lately one day when I come home with a as winter peers round the corner. new set of golf clubs. Those ones where it takes a while for
But I digress. the first cuppa of the day to get into your bones.
The only thing is, this hat is a fraction tight.
No problem for Mrs P, she’ll give me a quick haircut – which, with my ever-enlarging forehead, really is a quick one – and it’ll fit much better.
So, she goes off to find the implements and I take the regular stool to the bathroom where the tiled floor is easy to sweep clean after.
Now, I feel it is my duty to do crazy, impromptu stuff to promote a smile and some laughter to help keep the spark going in my relationship with the woman I adore. I mean, why wouldn’t you?
With that in mind, I strip off – completely buck naked – and sit on the stool, waiting for the shocked look on Mrs P’s face as she comes in.
Regular readers of my ramblings will know this is not the first time I’ve engaged in such behaviour. Mrs P is pretty wise to it by now, too. You could say, ahem, she’s seen it all before.
So as she comes through the door, there’s barely a hint of surprise.
Just a brief glance, accompanied by a smirk and a priceless comment: “I didn’t realise it was THAT cold this morning.”