Husband sent me several very annoying text messages while I was at work yesterday.
The first one said: “Woken by my beautiful girls at 9.30am – I could get used to the school holidays.”
He later informed me that the youngest had tried to wake him earlier without success. She’d poked him and then lay on top of him, but he’d just rolled over.
At lunchtime this cheery message arrived: “Now at roti restaurant eating curry with the girls … school holidays rock.”
I replied: “I hate you.”
Fortunately – ooops, I mean UNfortunately … kind of – things got a bit hairy after that when they went to the library and got hit with a $115 late fee. Husband had been under the misapprehension that children didn’t incur late fees. But he was wrong. They do. At 33c per book per day. And when you have borrowed 31 books and kept them for a few weeks longer than you should, it really adds up.
He called me to tell me about that little snafu and his subsequent grovelling attempt to convince the head librarian to waive the fee, which was long-winded but not entirely successful.
All was forgiven after I went out for a drink after work with a friend and left him at home babysitting.
Bugger this Dry July business. Whoever thought it was a good idea during school holidays had rocks in their heads.