I looked after my grandchildren last night while mum and dad went to two different parties. As even one invitation is relatively rare for them, I certainly wasn't going to say no. The kids had put in a request for chicken nibbles – wings and thighs – that I cook in a sauce of honey, soy sauce and hoisin sauce – and noodles. As it's not something I particularly like, I skipped the nibbles and had a sandwich before checking the teeth cleaning (not for the one who is nearly 16) reading bedtime stories (not for the one who is nearly 16), and sending them off to bed.
I went to bed at 10.30 and three hours later the three-year-old appeared like an apparition wanting a drink, which, of course, I provided. The last time I looked at clock after that was 2.30, so I must have fallen asleep. The partygoers returned – somewhat noisily – at about a quarter past three when I awoke. They eventually went to bed which was next door to the room where I was sleeping and I watched the clock tick over and over. I think the last time I looked it was just before five in the morning.
Come rain or shine, I am habitually up at six – and my body clock made sure that I was this morning. Quite a lot of coffee for me and breakfast for the children. I did have a slice of toast. My lovely sluggards were lapped in swinish slumber until 11 o'clock – when Mr absent came to collect me.
I had a cheese sandwich for lunch, made by Mr absent – rather lacking in tomato or salad – but couldn't manage all of it. I had intended to roast a chicken for tonight's supper but am so tired that I have no desire to cook anything. So, I sent Mr absent to the supermarket to buy a couple of cans of soup which we can have with some toast. Chicken – tomorrow, tomorrow, the chicken is only a day away.