Exciting (and scary)
Ooh, I’m very excited. St Patrick’s Day is nearly here and there are all sorts of things going on here. The boys finish school at 1, then it’s parent consultations (uh oh… #2 looked particularly tense this morning) and then we’ve got to rush down to Dublin to go to the dentist (yes, I know I should find a local one but he’s SO kind – and rather nice to look at – don’t tell Hubby), then for the much-dreaded and moaned about annual haircut, then it’s fun fun fun until Tuesday, wehay! On Saturday we’re going to watch the raft race on the river (and take Louis to socialise and get some more free ear scratches and sympathy), then in the evening there are fireworks in the town, which, unfortunately Louis will have to sit out. Sunday is Mothers’ Day during which I will obviously be waited upon hand and foot, showered with presents and generally pampered for the whole day (I can dream, can’t I) and then Monday we get a day at home together as it’s Bank Holiday. Lovely.
Louis is excited too – can’t you tell by the picture? Actually, he’s a bit depressed as he had a very scary day yesterday. First of all I dropped the calendar on him (it hangs on a hook above his bed) and this sent him skittering and whimpering across the kitchen floor and prompted a ten minute session of the shakes (calm down dear, it’s just a calendar!). Then the man who had come to deliver our third new TV and pick up the faulty second one arrived just as I was coming home from the shops so I let him in the back door, not thinking about the dog. The man (who was the size of a brick outhouse with a very large voice to match) boomed: ‘oh, a greyhound – my Dad breeds them!’ and went towards Louis rather fast with his big, huge hand outstretched. Well, of course this totally freaked him out again and he squeaked in a very unmanly fashion, jumped about a mile in the air and did a bit of ‘Holiday on Ice’ on the tiles trying to get away from the huge scary man, slipping and sliding and finally skirting round us to land back in his bed, wide eyed and quivering yet again. The third incident was Hubby, who, arriving while the man was putting the TV stand together, rushed into the kitchen to get a screwdriver and made our big brave soldier, who was having a little nap, jump out of his skin yet again. This time Hubby had to give him a big ten minute man to man chat to calm him down. How he ever plucked up the courage to chase a bloody rabbit I’ll never know…
