Coming Unstuck

For a Valentine’s Day, this one definitely lacked Hallmark moments:

I'm kneeling in the carport holding strips of dowel onto a timber board while She-Who-Worships-Pink (and screams a lot apparently) is throwing the mother, father and fairy godmother of all tantrums.

I have Araldite on my hands and I'm pretty sure my fingertips (or at least my finger prints) will become part of the disabled ramp that I'm trying to throw together between school pick up and swimming lessons.

Pinkster is screaming at me from inside the house; 'COME HERE!!!!' and I'm screaming back; "I TOLD YOU. I .CANT. RIGHT. NOW!!!"

The neighbours must be about to come outside and check on us, I'm sure - except for Evil Mrs Bates next door (now there's a woman you don't want to put a shower curtain between you).

Miss Pink, my screaming banshee, is in a mood. She wants me to come and admire some outfit in a Barbie catalogue but I told her the ramp is a priority and we can look through the catalogue together later. I am SO unreasonable at times.

I explained to her on the way home from school; "Buddy is coming out of hospital tonight and he needs a ramp to get into the car because mummy can't pick him up."  Speaking of 'Picking up' it would be handy in crises such as these if Mr Frenchie could pick up his phone.

So the deal is this; if I can't get the dog in the car without breaking my back and popping his sutures, he can't come home. And that would break everyone's heart.

Pinkster's sobbing; "you don't love me anymore" and in a fit of rage she takes my Valentines card she just made at school and throws it in the kitchen bin. I don't see this little drama till later because, you guessed it, I'm still bent double on the carport floor waiting for the glue to stick and finish the damned ramp.

In the end we got to swimming lessons, got the ramp finished, tears dried, the Valentine card retrieved from the bin and Mr Frenchie on his way.

Ramped up and ready to go

 Between two of us, we managed to get Pinkster out of the pool in time to collect poor Buddy from the Vet, where he’d had three lumps (all benign) and two abscessed molars removed.

Buddy (now the most miserable dog in the world) and I have both enjoyed better Valentines Days, I have to tell you.

I’m really starting to think though, that I need a daily dose of epoxy resin myself because I just cannot believe how my days can become so badly unglued.