Slutty Tuesday

Another week when it would seem I only have a kitchen because it came with the house. Or it exists as somewhere to put the dirty pots and pans from the, erm, nights before...

Enter me, into full-blown post-school toast massacre. We have acquired an extra 11 year old. The one who comes from the home that my 11 year old says smells of "clean". The surplus boy has no socks on. Trampolining - in the wet garden. Again. Normally I lend dry socks for the journey home, but feel disinclined in this instance as our sock drawer remains unreplenished.

Later, I am still ignoring the kitchen, and am practising activity deference so I don't have to work out what to cook. I am pretending to watch the Simpsons. Eventually Marge's voice annoys the hell out of me, so have to heave myself off the sofa.

Get online and check bank account - still in double figures. And its Tuesday. Domino's do two-for-one on Tuesdays. Slutty Tuesdays. For mums who (sometimes) only have kitchens because they came with the house.