Everybody was Kung Fu Fighting

Henry was particularly frustrating yesterday. He missed his midday snooze and without his sleep he tends to act as though I've fed him nothing but red cordial and sugar coated chocolate.

Bravely, or stupidly, I'm not sure which, I took Henry and the girls to the shops because there were some things I needed and I couldn't put off the inevitable any longer. I was there only 2 minutes when I decided it was time to leave. It's school holidays and there were sales on and those two things combined mean there will be a myriad of screaming kids, teenagers and adults all pushing people out of the way because they want to get to the bargains first. I consider it like going to a freak show except I can't stand to hang around long enough to watch it. There is nothing I need desperately enough in the world to want to endure that. My sister was with us and she has no kids. She has all the time in the world to stand and ponder over her purchases and calculate in her head the discount and compare colours and match underwear to shoes etc. Me, I just like to grab and run. Shopping is not my favourite pastime.

After two minutes I shouted across the throng of people looming over the discount table. "I have to go. I'm starting to hyperventilate. I think I'm going to need surgery if I stay here a moment longer".

Of course Henry had spotted some truck related stuff on our way past the toy aisle and started to scream the scream of a child whose mother had walked by that particular aisle without stopping. When I walked out of that shop I had my fingers on my phone ready to call Triple O and ask for an emergency ambulance to take me to the mental hospital.

Henry fell into a deep sleep in the car but the few minutes it took us to get home was apparently all the sleep he needed. When we got home it was like his energy levels had been refuelled with premium grade gas.

He discovered Maya's swimming goggles and proceeded to spend the next few hours putting them on his head and attempting to put them in his pockets "like mummy does".

My husband was sick, my kids were feral and my legs were hairy because there was no time to shave/wax/singe/pluck them. When my friend called to tell me his mother was having an emotional crisis and asked me could I go and talk to her and share a bottle of wine I said yes in less than a nanosecond.