Mmm, Felines, flap jacks and Chicken Pox

Today, I was super-busy with my other past-time … that of job procurement. So, it was off to another town, to chat to an individual whom I had never met before. And, of course, everyone I have met since then only had one thing to say to me: “How did it go?”

And, as usual, I thought is went well. Super awesome. Really productive. Exceptionally positive. But, then again, as with previous experiences, I may be mistaken. So, before I jinx this, let me just SHUT UP. Until further notice.

Picked up J from hostel today. Was thrilled to read an e-mail this afternoon, from said hostel, in which they bragged about the fact that they had a kid that had tested positive for, you guessed it, Chicken Pox!’ Oh, please. The last thing that this anti-mommy blogger desires right now. Have felt son’s forehead for fever at least 12 times since I read bad-news mail. No luck, yet.

Am hoping that there is no development of severe childhood disease, since said child has History, Natural Science, Maths and a two-to-three-minute debate-type-speech-oral-thingy to prepare. And there is no way this momma is getting involved – in any of this. Been there, done that and passed Grade 7.

This weekend, I plan to cuddle my cats, catch a mild, yet attractive tan and read the latest magazine I aquired with my Clicks cash back vouchers.

Ideally, I will not be involved in schoolwork of any variety, whatsoever. I shall only contribute to the educational cause in the next 2 days by sewing on yet another shirt button that, somehow, magically popped off during the quiet time, before prep? (For the record, I have lost count of the amount of buttons that I have sewn on this year.)

Have given the only Gr 7 in the house a brief synopsis of how I feel he should spend his time this weekend, if he is to complete tasks, as required. Whether he follows his mother’s sage advice, is to be witnessed from mother’s parental throne of the warm, cosy queen-sized bed in the main homestead’s boudiour.

Just keep telling myself: ” Children must learn the consequences of their actions.” Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Snuggle with assortment of feline companions. Repeat. Elicit coffee from youngest minion. Repeat and doze off, while beautifully drapped across cotton embroidered linen. Stroke feline head nearest to manicured left hand. And demand flap jacks at noon, with maple syrup and real butter.


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