Random thoughts while watching TV

This blog will do what it says on the tin. I will merely blog tonight as I watch TV and observe my family. This is called multi-tasking, I think. Women do it all the time apparently, men less so; at least, that’s what gender stereotypes would have you believe.

I’ll set the scene for you: my eldest is sprawled on a bean bag in the middle of the lounge, lanky legs akimbo; hubby is snuggling littlest man on the settee, his injured leg up on a second bean bag (he’s just been to the physio and has an icepack on his poorly calf muscle); and I’m slumped on an armchair, son’s laptop on knee, trying not to annoy everyone with my touch typing.

The room is quiet – it’s the boys’ Simpsons time, when I normally spend half an hour pottering in the kitchen in peace, listening to the radio or humming to myself.

By rights I should not be here tonight. I have tickets to go and see Jonny – a new collaboration between Euros Childs, ex Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci, and Norman Blake, of Teenage Fanclub – in Bristol with one of my oldest and most lovely friends Liz and her sister Suzy. I’ve been looking forward to it for ages. I should right now be at Liz’s house, quaffing wine and booking a cab. But my flu-hangover is still with me, and I really couldn’t face the hour-and-a-half journey down the M5, so I’m stuck here instead.

I’m fed-up, I must admit. Fed up to be missing seeing a good band but mostly fed up to miss out on seeing my chum, who always makes me feel happy. But to be honest I’m quite resigned and realise I’ve not got much to moan about really. I’ve only had flu, not a fatal illness. And while I’m lacking in energy, I’m not in pain and suffering.

Oops; I’ve now caused a minor rumpus by switching channels from Channel 4 to Emmerdale. I don’t think this will give me the excitement I am craving. The storyline concerns Jackson, left paralysed in an accident, and his relationship with boyfriend Aaron, who has a new fella on the go (but feels guilty about it). And now there’s something about a pair of sisters; one of them has a son, but he’s not really her son, he’s her sister’s son, but doesn’t know it. It’s very confusing. Pauline Quirk from Birds of a Feather is in it. That’s all I can tell you, as I’ve now lost interest.

I did notice none of the houses in Emmerdale are ever messy (unless it’s done as part of the storyline, to symbolise someone’s mental decline). The pub never seems to have any empty glasses left on tables or piled up at the bar. How on earth does it manage to employ so many bar staff when it has so few customers?

The adverts are on now. I like the Oreo one with the dunking boy and sad dog and the cheesy Werthers one that uses “I would give everything I own…” by Bread to sell sucky sweets.

The kids have disappeared to play in the kitchen with littlest boy’s Ben 10 ultimate alien car, which he has just converted to a – well, to a convertible. It was a robot thing before. Their dad is filling hot water bottles, making the boys’ beds and is about to read a story with littlest boy. He’s a fantastic dad. Sitting here typing instead of helping suggests I’m the less good parent. This is probably true.

The laptop battery gave out briefly, so I’ve been away a while, just getting back in time for University Challenge. The Sheffield team are easily the least handsome quartet I’ve seen for some time. They almost certainly put their religion down as “jedi”, quote from Lord of The Rings and enjoy a game of dungeons and dragons into the early hours.

I’ve had enough now. I have things to do, like talk to my husband, take some more flu remedy and maybe even have a bath. Exciting, eh? Well, when I promised to blog daily I never promised to blog about interesting things.

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