This week's FFS!? Friday is bought to you by Wednesday.
Or, as I like to call it, HELLONEARTHDAY. FFS!?
It stared with being late for school.
On the day of Miss8's class assembly. FFS!?
Totally forgot to organise her costume for their performance that she had been harassing me about for weeks. FFS!?
The only remotely cheerleaderish costume options were, of course, sitting in the washing machine waiting to be washed. FFS!?
Sprayed it all with "Fresh Linen" scented toilet spray. Shoved it on her and said a silent prayer to the Vodka Gods that she'd be in the back row. FFS!?
Arrived at school and realised we'd forgotten the kids' weekly banking. FFS!?
Not wanting to be late for assembly, I promised they could make up for it by banking double the next week.
They were almost placated by this offer, when suddenly, shit got real. FFS!?
Skipping a week's banking would result in them each being short a token for the missed week. Causing the world as we know it to implode, on account of them being one whole week further away from the next 10-token piece of crap reward. FFS!?
All the woe is me drama. FFS!?
Reluctantly left the most awesome parking spot on the school perimeter to race home and get their banking. FFS!?
Couldn't find it. FFS!?
Used every shed word in my vocabulary and knocked over an almost full bottle of wine in my frantic search. FFS!?
For a split second I considered licking the bench by way of cleaning up. FFS!? / No FFS!?
This would never have happened with a cask. FFS!?
Kids were yelling at me from the car. Ranty pants firmly wedged in place, I shouted at them to STFU while I looked. FFS!?
Another few minutes passed and I gave up and stormed back out to the car. FFS!?
Where the kids were waving their banking folders in the air like they just didn't care, oh yeah.....FFS!?
Seriously...who completely misses three ridiculously bright yellow folders against a car interior of grey/black? FFS!?
The generously proportioned moron who sat on them, that's who. FFS!?
Spent the rest of my Wednesday alternating between lamenting the apparent size and cushioning of my arse, and the spilled wine. FFS!?
Did a few squats at work, that should fix it. No FFS!?