A bit slack

The eldest is returning from his French holiday this morning and I feel like such a heel for not collecting him from the airport.

The plane lands at 8am, which is peak hour for Sydney traffic. Tuesday is also the you-must-be-in-the-office day at my work.

I have such a bad case of mother guilt.

It also means I’ll have to leave the youngest to make her own way home next Monday. Can’t not pick one up, then go to collect the other.

The youngest will be totally wrecked, as I think they have a 10-hour layover or something equally outrageous at a Vietnamese airport while waiting for their connecting flight.

Shudder.

I can’t wait to hear about all their adventures.

Though in the youngest’s case it will be a very short, weary tale as she got her dates wrong and has missed the first week of the uni semester. So she will be racing straight off.

I made the eldest lasagne last night as a peace offering for my failure to pick him up.

It was going so well until I cut my finger on a sharp knife while I was unpacking the dishwater. Then I tipped the shredded mozzarella into the bechamel and realised there was a mouldy glomp in the middle.

Panic ensued as I frantically fished it out while trying to avoid getting molten cheese on my bandaged finger.

My stress levels were heightened by Bilbo barking frantically at my feel the whole way through the drama because whenever he sees me in the kitchen he thinks its HIS dinner time.

But the salvaged lasagne tasted pretty good, so hopefully it’s the perfect comfort food for a weary traveller.

And I’m counting down the days until I’m at the airport for a flight of my own. Stay tuned!

Song of the day: Simon & Garfunkel “Homeward bound”