Showing posts with label Sunday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sunday. Show all posts

Sunday, 10 June 2012

Another shade of pink

There's something about a Sunday morning that says 'spanking' to me. I don't know why, maybe it's all those years of Sunday school and church - now I spend that time in bed and, as a result, can't help feeling just a little guilty/bad/naughty...
Anyway, I wake up in the zone, dying for SO to deal with me very firmly indeed. But, of course, it doesn't happen. Or very rarely.
With kids in the house anything that makes too much noise - or even makes the bed squeak a little - will be detected. When you want to attract their attention (eg meal times or clean-your-bedroom times) they can't hear you no matter how loud you shout, but a little parental giggling through a closed door is picked up every single time.
So, most Sunday's we get to talk (in whispers) under the duvet about how bad my attitude has been. And how it should be adjusted. And how it will be adjusted very thoroughly next time the conditions are right.
What are those 'conditions'? They are a) no kids b) SO not grumpy c) weather not so good (it keeps the neighbours out of their garden) and d) SO not working. And perhaps e) there's no chance that my mother might just drop by (which might be a little embarassing.
When all those variables will next come together is a moot point. Could be Tuesday - I'll offer up a prayer that it is. I know the right sort of thing, those mornings at Sunday school weren't entirely wasted.

PS This picture (from the excellent Red Ended Girls) is both Shade of Pink No. 49 and how my bot should have been this morning if the world wasn't such an unfair place for a married spanko with kids. 

Saturday, 10 March 2012

Easy like Sunday morning (not)

The best laid plans of mice and men... You have to plot your way ahead in this house if you're to have any chance of getting what you want. Or need.
So it was all looking good for Sunday morning. Significant Other isn't working (for once in what seems like weeks), youngest is at her best friend's and oldest is 20 miles away spending a weekend in the boyfriend's flat. Perfect.
So I've spent quite some time today thinking over what's going to happen tomorrow morning. And then the phone rang. Oldest has decided she doesn't want to stay a second night in the flat and is instead coming home - but has missed the bus.
That means I'm now on taxi duty and my breakfast (and extras) in bed isn't going to be the noisy, no-holds-barred event that I've been working towards for days. Damn.
PS The picture is from the classic 1960 British film 'Saturday Night and Sunday Morning'. Albert Finney is so good in it - must find the DVD and watch it again.