It must be Christmas. Frantically busy. I remember back in the good old days when the world was sepia-coloured, and the young lad used to push his bicycle up the hill with a loaf of Hovis under his arm, it used to get quiet at work in December so you could focus on decorating the Christmas tree. But no longer.
Anyway, The Cat has returned home for the winter holidays full of snot and cough. I'd have locked her in her room with a cross painted on the door, but The Cat's Mother thinks that's abuse. You mark my words, it'll be me that comes down with a nasty cold for Christmas not her.
We've lost touch with The Boy again. No replies to either e-mails or texts. I assume he's OK as there has been at least one Facebook post.
Our beautiful Christmas lights have suddenly died. I suspect the rainwater has got into the electrics. there has after all been rather a lot recently. Our garden looks all rather sad....
I was travelling a lot over the last couple of days, so had the chance to contemplate on being an adult.
I came to realise that the reason that old people (I'm including myself as old) get up early in the morning is that when they were teenagers, they would sleep late for as long as they could, and continued to do so into their twenties. But when a baby comes along, there are sleepless nights so the habit of sleeping in is trained out. This continues as the child gets older as there is then a need for a taxi service for the school run and weekend activities. By the time the child has left home, the adult has been 'getting-up' trained, much as the child was potty trained, and the training is never lost. Sad but true.
Also, old people (again that includes me) can only talk about themselves. Why is this? Because during their offspring's teenage years, their words fall on deaf ears, with only a grunt in response. If you dare to ask what they've been up to, the likely response is silence, or another grunt. So you resort to talking about yourself to create an impression of conversation. Naturally, as the surly teenager forms into a beautiful young adult, it's too late. You've learnt to just talk about yourself and can't get out of the habit.
Anyway, enough about myself, how are you doing?
