The Greek God(zilla) happened upon something so rare last weekend; something he has been dreaming of for over 3-years; something so sought after and longed for that he had to pinch himself to make sure it was not just another dream.
A weekend of doing nothing.
On Saturday, he had 5-hours at home, all to himself, while I took Zachy to see Madagascar 3, followed by a spot of lunch and bit of soft play fun with the A-Team.
If this was not a treat enough, he then had a further 4-hours to himself on Sunday afternoon while I accompanied Zachy to a 3-year old’s birthday party.
I thought of all the things I could do with a whole 9-hours to myself.
I’d finally get round to all those little jobs that needed doing but always got bumped to the bottom of the list, like re-organising Zachy’s underwear drawer… and maybe even my own.
When I’d finished doing that, I might do a little bit of ironing for the week ahead, or maybe tidy up the toys scattered all over the playmat in the lounge.
I’d hang pictures up around the house. I’d drink a mug of tea from start to the very last little drop.
I would clear the kitchen table in preparation for the guests we were expecting for dinner that evening. Maybe I would make a start on preparing the veggies without a 3-year old demanding I play dinosaurs with him instead.
I’d hang all our coats back on the rack and pick up all our muddy shoes from the carpet.
I’d research swimming classes and tennis lessons on the internet and make it through the online booking process before it timed out.
I’d return the suitcase we took to Bristol the weekend before to its rightful place in the loft.
I’d make the bed.
I could really make a dent in the never-ending to-do list of life.
It would feel amazing to start ticking things off. To feel like we were making progress and on top of it all.
What a luxury, what bliss.
As I let myself in through the door on Saturday afternoon, carrying a very sleepy child in one arm and a bag, balloon and coat in the other, I wondered if in fact it had all been a dream.
I looked around and everything was exactly as I had left it that morning.
The toys were still scattered all over the lounge and the curtains still closed.
I tripped over a pair of muddy boots in the hallway as I made my way to the kitchen, where I found the Greek Godzilla preparing dinner for that evening.
“So what did you do with your day?” I asked the Greek God(zilla) cheerily as I looked around at the various newspapers, books, toys, electrical equipment and plates residing over the kitchen table.
“I watched Casino Royale. Do you mind going back out to pick up a pork belly?”
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