We’re gonna talk time. Not normal time or ‘1 mins Turkish mate’ oh no. A whole new level of time that my son does. I am quite sure he does this to wind me up, to the point of mouth foaming and hair pulling.
Kids, if you want to near on kill your parents and ensure they have to triple their anxiety tablets, pay attention.
For added bonus do all this by the front door, the smallest space in the house, whilst the heating is on and everyone else has all of their winter clobber on, so their body temperature is that high, sweat turns to steam and it’s starting to look like the hallway is a swedish sauna minus the 30 stone naked hairy man. (Small mercys.)
• 15 mins to put one pair of smelly school shoes on WHILST telling me a one sentence story that takes 14 mins.
• The coat, moan like fuck about wearing it, irrigardless of asthma, weather conditions, school policy, cock about with the sleeves for 10 minutes and finally put it on, but only half way up your back because you’re still in strop mode.
• School bag. (Feels like 35 minutes) another 15 minutes. Shouting that you forgot to do the homework I reminded you to do only last night. Run round looking for the school books needed, that again, I reminded you to get last night and finally beg for a letter explaining you’re a laaaazzzyyy shit and haven’t done the homework.
• Finally tell another useless story, block the doorway with all your pointless bulky shit that you’re taking to school, so I can’t get to the front door to unlock it. 10 mins.
