So, Chef came off his bike on the bends of Spit Hill on Sunday morning at about 7.10am. He was on his way to work, there was oil all over the road, his (motor)bike hit the oil and over he went.
He’s got a massive bruised knee on his dodgy leg (of course), his (uninsured) bike slid across the road and collided with a mercedes coming the other way.
The first person to stop was a doctor who thought he was going to run over Chef. He didn’t. Bless him.
The second person to stop was a firey who called the fire brigade to come and clear up all the bits of Chef’s bike off the road and clean up the oil slick.
The third person to stop was a woman checking he was OK, by which time Chef was throwing his helmet at rockwalls such was his pissed-offed-ness at the turn of events.
I found it deeply ironic that earlier in the week I, the one who never wins anything, won tickets to see the new Thomas the Effing Engine movie. So, as a special treat for the two little fellas I had arranged care for the bigger boys and was taking them in to Fox Studios to see this fine display of rampant consumerism. (I can’t help thinking just how appalled the Rev W Awry would be at how his puritanical didactic tales of punishment for anyone not doing what they are told has been corrupted.)
How convenient this was happening the morning of the bike disaster. So we collected Chef from the side of the road (stinking like oil), dropped him at work and then went on to the movie.
The best part, on seeing the Fat Controller introduce the movie Jasper turning to me, eyes as wide as saucers, saying, ‘he’s REAL’.
They of course loved it, scoring goodie bags with a Thomas DVD in it. OH GOODY. New Thomas DVDs.
I caught a few minutes of shut eye.
On Wednesday I went with Jasper’s kindy class on an excursion to the Opera House and Botanic Gardens. The director was regaling us with all the dos and don’ts of being a parent helper as well as the multitude of toilet stops. Oh how we all chuckled when she was telling us about the quick run back to the Opera House for the child needing to do a poo. There is always one child who will need to do a poo.
Guess who scored the shitter? Bless this little fellow’s socks, the need to empty his bowels occurred at the festy toilets in the Gardens and after quite some time, when all others were toileted and on their way to the bus, I enquired if he was finished. He swung open the door and said with all earnestness, ‘well you see, there is this problem. The toilet is very dirty and I’m trying to…’ trailing off as I saw first hand his efforts to deal with the dirty toilet by placing beautifully perforated pieces of toilet paper around the seat which then confoundedly kept falling onto the even filthier floor when he would try to sit on the seat. I kind of hissed at him to just get on the toilet and when the director enquired as to his progress, mouthing to me ‘poo?’ she came to my rescue, muttering under her breath, ‘there is always one’.
Anyway, it was an awesome day and I felt really blessed to witness the amazing kindy in action. Very few pre-schools now take their children on excursions these days due to the mammoth DOCS checklist they have to meet, throwing the chance for children to have amazing experiences into the too hard basket.
A vaginal probe
So today Chef was jealous of an ultrasound probe. It’s been a long time between drinks for me and the white wand but today we met once again. Funny how I had not missed it once. It was all part of the exploration to determine what this weird burning sensation is on my right side. I am fairly convinced it’s referred pain from my lower back but my GP was fairly certain he had felt a lump when I coughed.
Anyway, two sonographers and much coughing and making my stomach protrude even further than it normally does there is no hernia. Not sure if there’s any issue with my ovaries but I could see the egg inside one of the follicles on my left ovary which will probably be the one to ovulate this month. Now there’s something to look forward to. It seems such a waste doesn’t it. That egg, sitting there, waiting for its little friend who will never ever arrive.
The good news is, there is no hernia. The CT scan may reveal something re the lower back but we’ll have to wait for the films for that tasty tidbit.
Tomorrow I’m off to Craft Camp! I can hardly believe it. In fact, I don’t think I will until I’m standing at Melbourne airport completely under-dressed and freezing my arse off.
See you all next week.