There’s no business like shoe business June 2, 2007
Posted by Jen in : Journal , trackbackThe rain wakes me from a deep sleep. It’s raining, my brain tells me. It’s 2.20 am and it’s raining. Go back to sleep. Or, much better, remember that your idiotic children have left their last pair of dry shoes in the garden. In the rain.
I zombie my way downstairs, avoiding the creaky bit so that everyone else stays asleep. Especially the children. I don’t want to wake the children. The children who left their bastard shoes in the rain.
I am in the garden. Half naked in the garden… at 2.25 in the morning… in the rain…
The dog stands in the doorway, watching me prance around the garden, as I go about my miscellaneous shoe business. Hmmm, you’ve gone a bit mental, the dog telepathies at me.
I think my brain has broken down. Anyone got a spare?
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8am and I have already shouted x5, banned eldest from everything for life and cried. I love having children,
So how wet are those shoes?
x
That’s mother love for you I guess (and being just a bit mad)
Caroline: One of those days, eh? Don’t mention any of this in the sodding baby books, do they?! Needless to say the shoes were wet enough to mean that PlayStation was the only option for the following day. No dog-walking. No emergency trips to the village shop for all the things I had forgotten to buy. Perhaps they’re not as daft as they look.
Karen: Having kids is quite madness-making. I’m sure I used to be normal. *sigh*
The good news is that they do grow up eventually, the bad news is you just get a whole load of grown up problems to deal with. Still that what Mums are for.
The Novel Racers meet is a great idea, with as much advanced notice as possible [have to arrange sheep-sitters] and not high Summer[travel far too expensive!!!!].
Hope the shoes are dry by now!!!!!!!!!
Oh, how I can relate to that post.
Kids, eh? #Sigh#
Sheepish - I can’t even begin to contemplate what ‘teenage troubles’ might be brewing… at least they’re boys and can’t get fertilised, I suppose…
It’d be great if you could make it over… will bear the high-summer cost and plan accordingly. Otherwise, we’ll just all have to come to France
Hippernicus - *sigh* Bloomin sods, eh?
No they just do the fertilising, Jen!
There is not a cat in hell’s chance I would’ve gone outside at that time to rescue those shoes: you are such a dutiful mum.
Oh JJ, don’t even think it! There’ll be no fertilising - none, I tell you!
Jen
I’m writing book review for our magazine here in Bangkok. It’s on The Woman on the Bus, which I first read about on your site, and I wondered if I could quote you?
Why is everyone concentrating on the shoes and the children and the only having half a brain?
Am I the only one rather captivated by the whole half naked in the rain padding around the garden at 2.30am thing? Surely that’s worth expanding on? Or is it only me that finds rain drops of half naked women rather delicious? (I do accept that “deliciousness” might of passed you by, what with it being 2.30 in the morning and raining).
Hi Jen,
My small daughter took wellies to wear to the beach the other day so she could paddle in the sea. The fact that she jumped in four HUGE puddles before we even got that far means that the wellies were kind of superfluous. Naturally, she didn’t mind and couldn’t work out why I was grinding my teeth. Oh, to be 4 again!
Actually, maybe not come to think of it!
Ooh, Bobo, ‘captivated’ is such a good word! Mmm… there’s something quite mesmerising about it somehow. You’re quite right about raindrops (or dew drops) on bare skin being delicious. I just think the whole zombying about thing kind of obliterated the sexiness of it. Maybe I’ll have another try when I’m awake (because the flowers smell scarily potent at night in warm rain, have you noticed??).
LQS: When you’re 4, the whole point of wearing wellies is to wade through water that comes over the top of ‘em, surely? My No 2 son is currently refusing a bath as he’s watching England v Estonia. Apparently, I should be glad to see him coated in mud as it means he’s had a good time… he’ll be sorry when I’m scraping him clean with a Brillo Pad!
The flowers and the floor of the wood smell glorious in soft rain. The grass swishes and twigs crackle in the stillness of the blanket night. And naked flesh goosebumps in the chill of darkness, made wet by the rain. Ooooooooooooooh yes. Waking up and noticing the illicit sexiness of naughty nocturnal adventures.
Thank you so much for that happy thought on a cloudy office-bound Thursday morning! ♥x♥
Crumbs… I really had no idea that wet shoes to lead to such sexiness, Monsieur Bobo…
Looks like rain… time for a walk I think!