When one of the kids in my maths class this morning yawned and informed me he was too tired to be bothered with Maths because he’d been playing football all weekend, I was not best amused. In fact, I don’t think he was too amused by the time I’d shared my feelings with him, either. After all, I knew a thing or two about being tired.
The thing I hadn’t thought about when setting my alarm to ring every three hours during the night was that, not only was I going to have to get up and apply the cold compress, I was going to have to stay awake for twenty minutes in order to remove it and stick it back in the freezer ready for next time. It was a long night! Made even longer by another annoying coincidence. Being half way through decluttering my bedroom for the Wightmeet, I didn’t have a bed to sleep on and was planning to kip on the sofa. But so’s not to wake Smudgelet through our nighttime vigil, I had to put Tiddles to sleep on the sofa. And me? Where did I sleep? Yes, you’ve guessed it… a nice cosy stretch of floor, to the accompaniment of a puzzled but delighted Charlie purring in my ear’ole!
Oh, and just to make sure I didn’t go to school toooooooo refreshed, I had to get up extra early because Tiddles was unable to wash and dress himself!!!
I was not best amused, after all this nursing care, to discover that his school (normally really caring) had refused to let him use a cold compress during the day, had disapproved of him taking a Nurofen in school and suggested if he was in pain he should be sent home, and had insisted it would help his hand get better if he were to write with it. Of course, I only have his word for it that this was what they said, but I think I shall be ringing up tomorrow to clarify the situation as it makes a bit of a mockery of the nurse’s instructions and he certainly wasn’t ill enough to miss even more school. Luckily the ministrations of the night seem to have had a positive result and he’s in far less pain now, although there’s an interesting looking dent across the back of his finger.
Things went from bad to worse when I discovered, somewhat accidentally, that I have been driving without insurance. I have always paid by direct debit and it has always just run straight into the next year, but somehow that hadn’t quite happened last time round. Panic stations while I made frantic phone calls to get the car insured with immediate effect. With my road tax due too, also rather urgently, I am praying my insurance paperwork arrives pretty promptly or we could be walking the Island for the Wightmeet. AGggggh… why is nothing ever simple?
Still, it was all made worthwhile in the form of a surprise present through the post. A friend had seen a book in the bookshop and immediately thought of me. Goodness knows why….
The title of the book? “Smudge’s Grumpy Day” 😀 😀 😀