The Fear

I have to go out tomorrow and do 'real world' things. I have to speak to real people. I have to turn the ignition, manouevre/manouvre the car using the forward and backward gears. I have to find clean clothes for 5 people. I have to get a new tyre and speak to mechanical men. I have to park in front of mechanical men. I have to take something back to a shop which is 10 whole minutes away. I have to do supermarket stuff. I will have the small people with me destroying my chances of intelligent thought. Oh actually I'm one sprog down tomorrow - clean clothes for 4 people. But this does mean I have to do all this and be back home by lunchtime (whatever that is) so I'm there for his return. I haven't been up by lunchtime lately. I'm panicking. I've run out of dishwasher tabs so there's no getting out of it. The washing-up bowl is full - will stay that way until my return with the dishwasher tabs at 4 seconds to 'lunchtime' - enough time to tip the washing-up bowl into the magic cupboard and say 'Hello - have you had a lovely time? Have you worn Nanny and Grandad out then?' Note to self - find 3 cups tonight to produce effortlessly. I won't sleep tonight worrying about leaving the house before I'm ready to wake up. Maybe I should just stay up all night.

God - just imagine if I actually had to take the kids to school! Or if I had a 'real' job! Why do people put themselves through this? Maybe 'people' don't go through this. This is just me isn't it? What if it snowed again? What if I really couldn't leave the house again? I never knew I had it so good back then....

I think that's what started it though. The ice-bound incarceration. I've been allowed to wallow in my own mould for so long I can't now break out. Not as sole responsible adult. Not that. Just one more week? One more week to develop some character. I know it's a tall order. Would anyone notice? One more week!

The fresh air might kill me......

Oh god - am I supposed to be creating fun pages for nice little home educated children for tomorrow too? Why do these thoughts torment me?

Autonomy.......autonomy......

What chance have they got when I can't spell manouevre/manouvre anyway? Never could. Never will.

They're better off sticking with the Argos catalogue and the dart board. Who needs education?

(Well obviously I do......)

But look - no swearing! See!