Things that seemed like a good idea at the time: losing three weeks of normal living while the entire kitchen is ripped out, stripped back to the brick work and rebuilt in shiny new fashion. What’s not to like, right?
Well, for starters there’s the small matter of removing everything that usually lives there and cramming it into the meagre available space elsewhere in the hovel.
And, of course conscripting the moaning, squabbling Spawn to assist in maneuvers. Yeah, ‘cause that was a good idea…
By the time the workmen have finished, we’ll have arrived neatly at the point where the last-minute Xmas rush sets in and new levels of stress and panic-induced rage are attained.
Apart from anything else, SheWhoIsNeverWrong’s current debilities render any participation from her a source of worry and concern. Still, naturally suited, as she is, to a role as a regimental sergeant major, the issuing of edicts, orders and such like comes naturally to her. Director of Operations it is then.
Clever lad that I am, I placed myself in charge of the weekend’s soundtrack, working on the assumption that music will soothe the savage Spawn while we work companionably and harmoniously together. Something light, uplifting and feel-good, around which our disparate tastes can unite.
World’s Collide seemed the perfect selection. An Unruly Child for my unruly children kinda thing but what the feck do I know?
The younger Spawn, Satanicus Maximus, filled with the passionate musical snobbery of the thirteen-year old metal-head, was first out the traps.
“What’s this gay rock, then?” He sneered.
Equally witheringly, the Princess of Darkness responded, “Er, it isn’t gay at all. I think you’ll find it’s post-operation transsexual metal, actually”
And so it continued.
Still, could be worse, right? I could, instead, be engaged in the single life, the shallow pursuit of selfish decadent hedonism and who’d want to swap that for the unmitigated, life-affirming joy of fatherhood?
Yeah.
Right.
Sigh…