Spider

Thursday 22nd Feb.

Decided I’d try the commute using the harbour tunnel today and resolved to set off by 7.30am. Hit a snag immediately when I found a spider on Ella’s car seat. Our new flat has underground parking, which is great for keeping the car cool, but our designated slot has to be the worst one in the whole complex; sandwiched between two columns of breeze block with just about enough space to open the doors on one side. Not only does this mean it’s harder to get in and out of the car, but it’s also very dark, even in the daytime.

Having just about seen the spider, I practically hurled Ella into the front seat and unclipped the car seat, banging it onto the garage floor for all I was worth. Afterwards, I tried to re-attach the seat but found I couldn’t see what I was doing in the dark so had to drive the car out of the space and park it in the sunlight, thus blocking several of my neighbours, all of whom appeared almost simultaneously, all urgently needing to move their cars and none with any sense of empathy or humour. By the time I’d sorted the seat out, a bead of sweat had formed and dripped the entire length of my forehead, while Ella was hopping furiously on the passenger seat shouting “I bouncing”, totally unaware of the chaos out back.

In the event, the idea of using the harbour tunnel was useless. By the time I’d done the nursery run and got myself halfway home to join the tunnel a whole hour had already gone by. I rang the university in the afternoon to tell them it just wasn’t a possibility.

Having returned home, I enjoyed my first child-free day in six weeks, though did spend it doing all the stuff I promised myself not to; food shopping, ironing and trying to fit our clothes into the wardrobes. We only have a handful of hangers so the rest of the stuff is crammed into cases under the bed. When Darren came home and saw how few clothes he had in his wardrobe, he resolved to go and buy some more. “But you have a case full under the bed, we just have no hangers. Don’t you remember packing them?”. What do men do with their brain?