There's A Fly in My Soup!

3.

I woke up at half three with an elbow in my ribs and someone sleeping on my head. I'm not joking, Monty has this habit of draping himself skillfully across my pillow and often across my face. The clock in the hallway was doing that really annoying thing, where during the day you can hardly hear it but at night it's like it's crying out for attention, ticking and tocking in stereo. I planned revenge on the arrogant clock, not just removing its batteries but throwing it in the bin and covering it with coffee grounds. Take that you miserable, attention seeking time keeper.

And then I remembered today's mission.

I moved away from the children with finely honed contortions. I'm sure if the Great Britain team needed another gymnastic I'd be more than capable of joining the team. My phone was blinking at me, and before my feet even hit the carpet I knew it was going to be bad news. You know when you just know? We as humans have this sixth sense for bad news. Like when I knew they wouldn't renew Suddenly Susan. Or when I knew that the really hot bloke I'd been messaging on match.com was actually just a sex crazed lunatic with a fetish for worn out socks.

Cheryl Woods, a woman I relied on day to day to take the kids to school and help out around the house had come down with the flu. It was so typical, that today, when I planned to go in all guns blazing and stand up for the little guys, aka us kitchen staff, I'd have to drive the kids to school, take Leon to his Physio session and get a handle on the three bags full of dirty laundry currently stationed on our kitchen floor. Not to mention removing Monty's latest masterpiece. A crayon mural of a hand that looks more like male genitals, all over the living room wall.

Frantically, hair a complete fright, and face still smeared with yesterday's makeup, I called a list of emergency numbers tacked to the fridge. The first three just rang off, the next two were working elsewhere today, and then finally, when I was about to throw in the towel, admit defeat, and drown my sorrows in a packet of a biscuits dipped in chocolate mousse, I managed to rescue what (in my head anyway) was turning out to be a bugger of a day.

I skipped from foot to foot, standing by the window, blinds pulled aside as Jessie Mitchell turned up. I'd never met her before, but Cheryl had recommended her. It wasn't much after four am, but I had to get to work and start on the breakfast prep whether Trent wanted me to or not. Now I'm always a bit wary of people I don't know. I'm not rude, but I like to make sure I'm not letting someone in who might steal my laptop, or my underwear. It happens. A friend of mine had a cleaner that liked to steal her lacy lingerie.

True story.

Jessie didn't look like the stealing undies type. She made me look like something that lives under a bridge, her hair was a glossy chocolate colour, twisted together in some intricate looking plait, and she wore jeans tucked into black flat boots and a batwing top like they were some designer fare. In contrast, I was still in a pair of Leon's pajama bottoms and a t-shirt still bearing the stains of a painting session with the kids.

'Lovely to meet you.' Jessie extended her hand, passing me the kind of warm smile that reminded me of Miss Honey from Matilda, or Mary Poppins. 'Cerys, is it?'

'Yes....yes Thank you.' Why was I bowing? I straightened myself up, glad that she was now rifling through a notepad and not staring awkwardly at me as I came back to standing.

'Leon is your brother, the kids are Monty and Sarah? Is that right? And the kids should be dropped off no later than 8:30 according to the schools website....stop me if I've got anything wrong, I've not done this for a while!' She blushed, but she didn't look the slightest bit flustered. 'I've printed out a map with directions to the physio appointment.'

Wow.

She passed me a folder. Inside, I found photocopied certificates of all her qualifications and a booklet full of references. And it was then that I realised that I'd never been as 'together' as this woman. She came to the door today having researched her job, dressed for the occasion and she was raring to go.