Fevered Brows, Marigold gloves, mobile technology and carpets...

So much for the wonderful weekend!

I have just enough time I think between fetching and carrying and clearing up to write about the weekend.

What weekend?

I couldn’t have hexed it more completely if I’d employed a witch. So much for lying in, so much for Dear Charlie being home for two days.

They are all down with the Winter Sickness Bug and it’s joyful!

And Oh poor things how they suffer!

I feel for them I really do but I don’t think I am sympathetic enough. I am more of a practical carer than an emphatic one and I don’t think my trusty yellow Marigolds are quite what my husband was thinking of when he wanted his fevered brow mopped.

But please I AM the one who has to deal with it all.

He doesn’t like me telling him to clean his teeth and wash his face and hands. He doesn’t like my hovering there with the mop and bleach either. He looks balefully at me with rheumy eyes then martyr like he returns to his pit crying pitifully for water and perhaps a poached egg.

Poached egg? Not on your nelly mister it will be up so fast you’ll have no time to get to the bathroom and I dread to think of the stain the yolk will leave on the carpet…

Me: “Darling I think perhaps we’ll try some dry toast and if that is comfortable perhaps some rice and chicken soup for lunch.”

Note I am opting here for the white foods always find them so much kinder to ones stomach not the least kinder in terms of stains on the floor…

Him: “OK then a little dry toast and please could I have some tea…

Me with a triumphant glint in my eye: “Of course sweetheart!” Thank heavens he’s too ill to be stubborn…Actually heck he must be really ill! KERIST! I hope I don’t get it I have way too much to do this week.

Me: “Darling I’ll leave you here to sleep and rest. Look to save you getting up why don’t you just call me on your mobile if you need anything…”

Thank God for mobile technology now he doesn’t have to come spreading his germs about all over the house and infecting everyone else…..

Is it Ok to PANIC?

At what point is it perfectly acceptable to panic? At the moment of realisation, at the dawning of comprehension or when it’s too late to do anything about it?
I am not quite sure where I am on that scale but there is a burgeoning sense of panic starting at the pit of my stomach and rising. It is causing a slight jittery feeling and making me feel, well frankly nauseous for much of the day and no it is NOT the Winter Sickness Bug – would that it were.
I am becoming concerned about the fact that I have committed myself to run in The Flora London Marathon and my training seems to be going backwards. When I started I was able to bumble along quite happily running 6 miles in an hour but despite training – throughout Christmas – I have got steadily slower. In fact if I continue this way I will only just be finishing when they start next years!
I try to get the thought out of my mind but like all semi-apocalyptic contemplation it won’t go away. It manifests itself in my dreams, interrupting traditional nightmares from being chased by unspecified horror to the realisation that the horror is the least of my worries and the problem is I will never get any faster and said horror shoots past leaving me somewhat deflated in it’s wake.
The thought stalks my day, turning the innocent school run into a potential half marathon circuit if only I weren’t in my car; my coffee break into a test run of trying to drink and keep moving at the same time - a feat I am assured is easier to do when the liquid you are drinking isn’t scalding hot.
Good grief even the washing is turning into a marathon but that’s possibly because it’s now on epic proportions as I was too lazy to do any over the holiday and now we’ve run out of sheets, towels and other minor necessities such as school uniform, pants and socks.
I suspect that my worries are unfounded or maybe even that I am not actually focused on the things where I should have concern such as the fact that I promised to raise £5,000 for Epilepsy Action as part of the marathon ordeal.
Perhaps the real issue of the day is fact that I have yet to start doing my tax return…excuse me I think I need to PANIC!!!