It’s two weeks since the traumatic events of Father’s Day. It seems like a lifetime ago! A sense of calm* has descended on our household:
The girls have finished school for the year and are chillaxing into their summer holiday.
Louise has resumed her gym regime, more comfortable leaving me unattended. Able to get some time back for herself.
I have settled into my recuperation, combining gentle exercise with rest and a healthy diet. As time has gone by, I have become oblivious to what’s happening at work. My diary is clear for the next couple of weeks (well almost!), and I’ve got a few more days before I officially start pottering at home. I am doing what I’m told!
This weekend we hit trouble: The summer TV schedule has destroyed our Saturday night routine. What were we to do? Relying on our instincts, we did what civilised people have been doing since the dawn of time… we dug out a jigsaw puzzle.
Gone are the days of finding the pieces to let the girls contribute, it turns out that jigsawing has become a highly competitive pursuit, requiring trash-talk and show-boating to get the full experience (I have no idea where they get it from!). It has also become extremely addictive – the crack cocaine of family past-times.
It was all too much for me… I had to retire to bed, exhausted, leaving the ladies to finish the job.
I’m supposed to be taking it easy. It’s nice to do something together as a family, but I’m sorry, if I’m going to fully recover, we need to find something a little more relaxing to do!
* I initially wrote this as a typo, “A sense of clam…”, which may have been a Freudian slip given the amount of fish consumed in the past two weeks!