Wednesday. Early start and late finish. Nothing defrosted in the fridge. The dishwasher needs emptying. Little Wanna is moaning for help with her Home Reader and getting cranky. Charly is asking obscure questions about her maths homework from another room. Ro-Ro is tinkling the ivories but lapsing into occasional silliness with the recorded digital sounds. There is a stray fly buzzing around.
It's that moment in the early evening when time stands still and the room seems to whirl around. I've a wooden spoon in one hand stirring in a pan, scissors in another opening a packet and am trying to wipe the bench while sounding out the word W-E-N-T for a kindergartner, and I'm still in high heels. There is only so much one person can do with two hands and one voice. That spells 'went,' darling, as in, "Mummy W-E-N-T quietly insane before bed bedtime."