05:15 Frankie determinedly wakes up Lindsay. Either he needs a wee or little Jimmy is stuck down a well. Lindsay dashes downstairs to open the door. Frankie just sits on the back step and admires the stars. Knob.
09:57 Lindsay doesn’t like the new whistling kettle. She can’t secretly make cups of tea without Sam racing downstairs to ask for one.
10:23 Ian and Lindsay are driving into town.
“That’s strange Ian. There’s my optician running down the street…..oh, no hang on, that’s not him.”
“You should have gone to Specsavers.”
11:23 Lindsay decides she hasn’t quite annoyed her dad enough over the last 46 and a half years and starts sending texts about the daily cryptic crossword.
12:56 Lindsay is on her way out and remembers something.
“Ian. I left you a present. In the toilet.”
13:17 Lindsay is troubled whilst watching a French drama about a new strain of Ebola spreading rapidly through Annecy. She’s troubled because she can’t understand a bloody word and she can’t read the subtitles.
14:19 Joel needs a lift to meet a friend.
“Where does he live?”
“Go to the building in town and turn left.”
14:26 After following Joel’s clear and precise instructions, the friend is located. Ian is having a chat with him about the only thing Ian knows anything about.
“Do you play football?”
Ian sees why they’re friends.
15:56 Lindsay reckons thumbprints must age too because her phone and iPad are refusing to recognise hers today. Something else to start moisturising.
17:01 Lindsay stands at the top of the stairs whistling. Sam doesn’t appear. Trust him to know the difference between a kettle and his mother whistling through a wooden door whilst wearing headphones.
18:21 Lindsay laughs at her Facebook memory from three years ago. She was in Blackpool on the first day of the summer term (the halcyon days when she worked part time) and had forgotten to buy Joel some school shoes. Oh, how she chuckled.
“Did you order my new school shoes?”
18:57 Lindsay’s somehow managed to trap yet more wind inside her body. After downing a bottle of Gaviscon, she reckons she’s now produced enough gas to power a hot air balloon.
19:14 Lindsay shuts the book. Again.
So there we go again. Another wrap. 100 days of Lockdown #3.0. Actually, there are some missing days but who’s gonna check? That’s right. No one!
I need to tell Boris that this lockdown was rubbish. The weather was dreadful and I actually had to work this time. In fact, it didn’t even feel like a lockdown. I disappeared into my cupboard, just as the streetlights were switching off, to teach for six hours a day, then emerged into darkness again to be greeted by three rude, lazy, demanding children. So how was this a lockdown?!
But fingers crossed, there will be no more, if only so I’m not tempted again so write a bloody diary. I can see you all (well one or two who are still reading this) nodding furiously!
So thanks again, for the likes, comments and shares. Now to devote time to getting my revision phobic sons to pass some exams. Actually, forget that. Day 101 in…only joking!