Holed up in bed with the bad back, again. Some anatomical bit that should be nicely tucked away is sticking out of my spine and walking around is causing me to yelp like a castrato. (I'm two out of three so far, in terms of bailing out early on 40th celebrations on medical grounds.) So boring and stupid.
However, in unexpected bodily malfunctions, as in many parts of life, there are little hidden blessings.
Last night, I was idly surfing my computer for something to distract me, when I came across this show Seven Minutes In Heaven. Have you seen it? It is so, so funny. Comedian Mike O'Brien interviews actors and comics in his closet, and each episode is only a few minutes long (but not seven, notably.) Tina Fey and Jeff Goldblum made me cry with laughter. It was so good for my mood.
Good husband Keith took over all duties last night, and will again today, so he had to be given a leave pass for soccer training this morning. I hung out gingerly with the little ones. I was OK to sit and play carefully but unable to multi-talk like usual; with one eye on the Uno game and one hand in the washing up.
I ignored the debris everywhere and played with the kids. It had many charms. Georgette staggered around, stiff-legged and proud of herself like all newly ambulatory humans. Ivy read to me in her expressive, hilarious way, and wrote me a letter. (I Like You Mum. Do You Like Me? Love Ivy. ) Teddy played my doctor, and treated my broken arm by telling me he would have to send me on to the 'party hospital'. Considering my current doctor was wearing smeared red lipstick and had recently wet his pants, I I was afraid of how much wilder the party hospital would get. We sang 'I know a song that will get on your nerves' in a lengthy loop of silly voices and then the big kids showed me how to play the swinging game 'Ready, Spaghetti', the rules of which are Dadaesque.
Now, they are off over the road pretending to fish with Dad off the big rock while Georgie sleeps. Fingers crossed my bony bits will be back in place tomorrow. I have too many projects on the boil for my unruly spine to interrupt my plans. Writing to write! Painting to paint! Cooking to cook!
Come on old bones. Do what Mummy says.