I had it all planned, and the vision was along the lines of above. Stretched out on a sofa doing absolutely nothing.
My first evening in for weeks, after a dizzying run of double-decker overlapping evening commitments and meetings. (I swear the number of parental school events is increasing in inverse proportion to the reducing percentage of children I still have attending) Husband away for a couple of days. The house in a state of almost antiseptic order. The tv to myself.
The arrival of the Spanish Exchange girl didn’t pose an issue. And I knew I could safely leave Youngest Daughter to her apple crumble-making. She has, after all, made one every day for the past week as far as I can see. What else do you do with the apple crop?
The elder two were going out with a large group of friends. All well and good. I would certainly be master of the controller at this rate.
But it doesn’t work that way of course. The crumble-making venture branches out into a custard confection made with powder from the tin. Somehow the advances in custard technology have missed this household. No tins of ready-made or instant here. The crumble-maker requires rescuing from the drama of stirring the custard to avoid lumps and catching on the bottom of the pan.
The group going out are in fact staying in first. This is the new way for hard-up students. Buy in the drinks from the supermarket, have a nice time at home, and then finally exit towards the end of the evening when most sensible people are about to go to bed. I love having everyone around, but the volumes coming out of the room are making tv watching problematic.
Luckily I cannot contribute much to the Spanish experience. I have discovered that speaking my limited Italian doesn’t work which surprises me since the languages look indistinguishable on the back of packaging. So after offering up hola, por favor and gracias, I’m out of it.
How can it be so difficult to just watch telly?