Having accidentally taken the Dog’s hay fever medicine I feel I may have been slightly more disorganised and a bit less suave than usual – managed to lose my bra at the swimming pool. In rather a rush, as I was already a bit late for the school pick up, I was left with a choice: going braless or wearing the still-soggy bikini top. Chose the latter but very much wished I hadn’t as I was then stuck with a wet T-shirt look of the breastfeeding kind. Absolutely certain that I looked entirely mad and very fierce racing along with arms tightly folded in an attempt to obscure the two dark circles that were slowly spreading across my chest.
In a fit of organisational zeal I have now wormed the children and de-flea’d the dog – rather hoping that was the right way round but I may, for peace of mind, have to worm the dog and de-louse the children – just in case.
Along with other signs of less than perfect domestic management it has been noted that the Tooth Fairy gets ever more slatternly with each subsequent child. She was quite good to begin with – usually coming on the right day with only occasional delays due to unexpected peaks in the tooth harvest – after Halloween for instance. By child number 4 however her performance review paints a rather different picture: persistently late, chaotic placement of coins, failure to collect or careless dropping of the toothy merchandise, days lost to strike action, work to rule – no Sunday or bank Holiday service. All in all – very poor. One suspects that she has, far too often, been out on the toot with Santa’s Elves.
And yet again there appears to be a marked difference between the amount of Tax Owed and the amount of Tax Saved For. It turns out that I really should have concentrated harder on those tricky percentage calculation thingies when at school. Bother. So I am off, cap in hand to see the bank manager, this is not without precedent – but he is always very charming! Whilst I am fully aware that tax evasion is BAD I am nonetheless secretly envious of those who manage it.