Tuesday, 8 December 2009

I was right - I don't like Mondays

Our cleaner came, did her absolutely marvellous thing where she transforms our house to a shiny, gleaming, paradise, and then went away again. And I looked around at the glistening surfaces and decided to have a mini celebration. Digging through the freezer I found a rather tasty looking wild rice, lentil, chestnut and mushroom bakey thing, so threw it into the oven, and 20 minutes later, it, and a dollop of creme fraiche were ready for my undivided attention.

And then the phone rang, could I collect Little Fish from school please? Not immediately, but at the end of the day as her escort was poorly. No problem. Returning to my meal, I loaded up the fork, opened my mouth wide, and then the phone rang. Mog had had a 28 minute seizure and a lot of green gunk, he was now asleep and fine but could I be prepared for her to be ill please? No problem. And I loaded up my fork, opened my mouth, prepared for a taste of bliss, bit down, and chipped a tooth on a particularly hard bit of wild rice.

The dentist offered me an appointment for this morning; perfect. Just the little matter of rearranging several other appointments to make it, but broken tooth = sensitive tooth = pain = priority. Except of course that this morning, Mog is off school unwell, and the dentist's office is upstairs. The last time I took her to my dentist she was two; in fact I think that may be the last time I took myself to the dentist (which potentially explains the chippyness of the tooth). Here's hoping there are some nicely strong men with appointments at a similar time to mine...


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