We eat a lot of avocado. Like one a day would not be unusual. All five of us love it, on toast (Turkish!), sandwiches, cruskits…I could go on.
Our method of keeping them in good nick in the fridge is to stick the two halves together and tie tightly into a plastic bag. Thus the air cannot get to it and they stay nice. Seeing as they are used within 24 hours, it’s not much to ask of the plastic bag.
This ensures we always have avocado in the house. Because I can’t bear a house without avocado in it.
So this morning I put the toast on, opened the fridge, found the plastic bagged avo, pulled it out and found this.
|So like, where's the avocado?|
This is the avocado equivalent of putting 1mm of milk in the milk bottle back in the fridge. Or leaving one sheet of loo paper on the roll.
The culprit could be any of the other four people I live with. It certainly wasn't me.
In other household fails, I’ve given up on using the right toothbrush as we are all using the same bathroom and all the toothbrushes seem to be orange. Mike and I have access to our en suite from tonight so am looking forward to being certain my toothbrush is for my teeth only. I know we all share the same DNA but I think toothbrush sharing is oversharing.
Issy now has homework. It’s fairly low key, being a list of ten words to write neatly on one side of the sheet and some simple maths questions on the other. In past years with the older two, I’ve kept the marked sheets in a growing pile and occasionally looked back fondly at the progression of spelling words or handwriting.
This time, it’s going straight to recycling. Sorry Issy. My days of admiring lists of words like bat and rat and sat are over. Josh has to spell abundant and announcement and that’s taking up all my brain. I do love you.
And then, this morning I noticed my lips were a little dry. I picked up the nearest tube of what I thought was lip balm and applied it. It felt a bit weird. Imagine my horror when I took a closer look at the tube and realised I’d just applied bright green zinc to my lips! A quick check in the mirror proved the horror was real. And excruciatingly bright.
|Clearly zinc from the front. Der.|
I nearly ripped my lips off trying to remove it before the school run.
|Could be lip balm from the back?|
10 years ago I took Sarah to her first swimming lesson. Mike came too. Because she was our first and it was a big deal. She was 8 months old. We sang and pretended she was a motorboat. She grabbed at plastic ducks in the water. She laughed and laughed. We dribbled water on her head, bounced her around in the water, and even ducked her under for a second. She was the chubbiest, happy little swimming baby ever.
|Proof she can swim.|
Today I took Sarah to her last swimming lesson. She is nearly 11. I am watching her now and She can do all the strokes and is about to trial for squads and with everything else this family does, I’ve decided to pull the pin. The cost and logistics are too much. Plus, she can swim. She’s not an Olympic contender. Job done.she is swimming 25m backstroke like a champion.
But it’s the end of an era and I’m a bit sad.
Although the money we’re saving will no doubt cheer me up.