I was primed for a nice, quiet night at home yesterday when the youngest reminded me about an end-of-season netball dinner.
Then my ex texted to ask if we were still going to the opening of a HSC art exhibition at the eldest’s new high school.
Fark! I’d totally forgotten about that too.
I asked the eldest if he was keen, but he had too much homework.
When I told my ex he replied: “Well there is a response I never expected.”
The eldest and homework are two words that don’t often appear in the same sentence. But the eldest has adopted a motivational approach to study that involves adding an artistic element to every subject.
That means there’s a full-sized Frankenstein being constructed out of chicken wire and paper mache on my breakfast bar, while a pack of intricately painted geography cards are being assembled in the bedroom..
I’m impressed by the out-of-the-box creativity. About as clever as I got in high school was writing an essay about W.C Wentworth on a roll of toilet paper … starting in the centre. I don’t think the history teacher thought it was very amusing.
As for the netball dinner, I could have dropped the youngest and run, but that seemed unfriendly, so I hauled my tired arse to our local Grill’d … not where I would have chosen to have dinner, but the youngest was thrilled as it has a chicken salad – sans the beetroot and nuts – she likes.
And so I found myself eating out for the sixth night straight. I’m slightly horrified to type those words.
Before I left home, I cooked Gordon Ramsay’s roasted tomato soup for the eldest, to make up for the previous night’s dinner being Pizza Hut. It wasn’t my best work. I’m blaming the sugar-free chicken stock the youngest is insisting we use.
Meanwhile, I had slider burgers and zucchini fries with chipotle mayo. Yep, the diet is going SO well.
It ended up being a fun evening that included me regaling the table with my plans to turn part of my house into rental accommodation. I resisted whipping out the floorplan from my handbag.
Yep. I actually carry it around in my handbag.
One of the mums announced she’s moving her family to Melbourne next year to get away from Sydney’s crazy cost of living.
She also revealed half the suburb has a similar idea to me for making money on the side. She works in a door hardware store and reckons every second customer wants to buy a special lock so they can corral off part of their house as an air bnb.
I’d better get in quick before there’s a glut.
Song of the day: Bobby Pickett “Monster Mash”