Here I was thinking the first day back at school would feature a day of glorious luxury with just me, Chef and the Turdinator at home.
You know I’m here to tell you today just kicked my arse from here to a month of Sundays. That doesn’t make sense I know but I love that phrase in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, it’s Day 2 and it’s 11.25pm so you’re going to just have to work with me.
SO, we drop the boys at school e.a.r.l.y. and catch up with Oscar’s teacher for this year (who is also, conveniently, the deputy principal responsible for the special needs kids) and have a mini-debrief about when the operation is, when swim school is on, could they possibly call on us to help out in driving Oscar to and from, filling in Felix’s teacher from last year on the whole knee incident and you know, to just let him take it easy, only to then see Felix playing handball. Yeah, really bad cut, 10 staples, shouldn’t really bend it. Blah blah blah listen to the hoverparent droning on and on already. Next!
Then we drop Jasper at my in-laws – ‘a special day, just for me Grover, not for you, just me, on my own, with Nana and Grandpa’. Yeah, way to rub it in dude. They took him on a lovely outing involving a bus trip AND a train ride into Central Station where apparently his eyes almost fell out of his head at so.many.trains. and all the track. There was even a Country Rail train driver who offered to take him into the driver’s cabin but he wasn’t having a bar of it. Funny little kid.
Then we (that’d be me, Chef and TurdBoy) headed off fridge shopping.
That’s right, nothing rams home the cold hard reality of poverty than having your 15 year old teeny tiny fridge you bought when you first moved out of home with your boyfriend enter the death throes just after Christmas and to watch it slowly die leaving you with no other option than to purchase a new and unavoidably expensive household item. Hi my name is Now-totally-maxed-out-credit-card, let me introduce you to Screwed.
Over the last few weeks the freezer has not been cold enough to keep ice cream or bread or various other things for that matter, frozen and the fridge has just been getting less cold on an oh-so-gradual way. Every time we have a really hot day it just gives up that little bit more. I just had this feeling it wasn’t going to last that much longer so off we went.
The Good Guys was first because apparently they’re the good guys and won’t screw you over. In fact, that’s where we bought our washing machine five years ago and they really were good guys and the fridge I have chosen after hours of internet research was there and indeed, the guy who sold us the washing machine is selling us the fridge and he’ll give us the floor-stock for a bargain basement price. Bargain basement being, you know, relative.
We then go to Harvey Norman who were beyond useless. Then we go to David Jones and endure the most agonising of waits as the most annoying of couples stand there monopolising the one and only sales assistant only to then say, ‘well, we’ll go home and check out the measurements and get back to you’. Idiots. I do the whole, ‘I want this model in this finish and these guys will do it for me at this price. Can you do it?’ His convoluted answer was no, coming in $300 more and telling me I’d have to wait three weeks.
So back to the Good Guys we go and make the deal. I’m all sweaty and getting the hand shaking thing I developed during the breakdown of 2008. I mean, we have to have a fridge and there is no point buying something that isn’t going to last the long yawning stretch that will be having four teenage boys.
The only glitch at this stage is that the credit card had been frozen because I hadn’t paid last month’s minimum on time and while I had paid it a few days ago it still hadn’t registered with the credit card company, so we’ve paid a deposit and will call with our credit card number later in the day once those funds have cleared. OH I KNOW, we can all see where that story line is headed.
We get home and believe it or not I have a 20 minute unintended power nap. Chef goes and collects the boys from school, I bake a batch of biscuits and cut up some watermelon and assume the crash position for the afternoon run.
Boys home, all good, everyone happy, Felix has a teacher I don’t know and they seem to have totally shaken up the two classes so not sure if that is good, bad or indifferent. His knee held up well and we remove the bandage to have a look-see.
Then Chef and I moved.the.piano. to make way for some back room re-arrangement to fit in the new fridge (the space in our kitchen for a fridge is tiny and was never going to do, the fridge is going to sit against a wall opposite the kitchen – it’s hard to describe but it is a workable solution). HOLY CRAP pianos are fucking heavy.
Shopping to pick up some stuff for homemade pizzas.
Home at around 7pm. Funds still not cleared. Back room a complete bomb-site as Chef has been moving shelving (as I had directed) and the little boys have been ‘helping’.
Meltdowns by everyone including me.
Phone calls to credit card company, all fixed, phone calls to Good Guys, all paid.
The fridge arrives tomorrow.