A Life in the Day...

I am woken at 6am by howling puppy. This can only mean one thing. He's pooped in his bed. Great. Yep - there it is - one mortified dog and one poo-smattered bed. Nice. Half an hour later puppy is cleansed and smelling roguishly of girly shampoo and kitchen is disinfected. Fed said puppy and answered rousing chorus of "Doe a Deer" coming from J's bedroom. G has got himself up and glued his nose to the TV screen throughout the proceedings. Husband appears and grumbles about the shortage of milk, before using the last trickle on his own Rice Crispies and rushing off to work - late again. J takes the "let's clean your nappy" comment literally and pops wet nappy into washing machine. It's not until mid-cycle that I notice a merry little avalanche of nappy gel tumbling around the drum. You'd never believe how much those Pampers can absorb. Hoovered it all up including sock which causes the hoover to emit odd asthmatic mooing sounds. 

Noticed small grains of rice in puppy poo in the garden. Mental check concludes that we have not fed him anything rice-like and they most definitely aren't green plastic like the watering can he ate yesterday. A quick perusal of the internet reveals diagnosis of tapeworm. Only wormed him 2 weeks ago but ring vet to order heavy duty stuff.

We then spend a lively hour between 9 and 10 am getting dressed. There's much chasing, cajoling and then shedding of clothing from J and a refusal to switch off Miniclip from G. But we finally make it out of the house - more or less clothed. Jude steps in goose shit and screams dramatically until his beloved (too small) croc is washed and dried to his satisfaction. (Prizes for anyone that can spot a theme to my morning!). Then there's more battling into the car because a friendly neighbour has parked one foot away from J's door and he refuses to enter any other way. Finally we're off. We're on our way to the barbers to get J's hair cut - ha ha isn't life fun!

Explain to the lady at the barbers that J doesn't need to wear the (too scratchy) cape thing and doesn't like the (scary) clippers or (too wet) water sprays and present J with his favourite book - a London A to Z - to occupy him. I turn my back for a nanosecond to talk to G and woman immediately sprays J with a fine mist of water and revs up the clippers. J screams and wails like he is being attacked but it's too late to stop as he now has a tram line in his overgrown barnet - like a reverse mohican. The shop owner hurries over and announces that we are causing a disturbance and must leave but the clipper wielding woman ignores her and continues her hair farming mission. Gripping the snot-covered, shrieking J in her ample satsuma-hued cleavage she makes swift work of turning J into a small Germanic-looking child. We pay, apologise and leave with J's new rats tails bobbing behind us in the wind. 

We make it back home and then allow J to spin in the carpark for 15 minutes to realign his tattered senses while G and I discuss the advantages of the Xbox 360 over the Nintendo DS.

 And then it was midday!