So it's Christmas Eve day, I've got the turkey in the fridge defrosting for tomorrow, grabbed a couple of steaks out of the freezer for tonight - my plans for the day amounted to nothing, nadda, zilch - just to sit (with my Eartha Kitt/Bea Arthur sore throat that has been threatening for the last 3 days to develop into one hell of a head cold/flu, but so far hasn't progressed much beyond me feeling tres pooped and a bit under-the-weather), munch the occasional bon-bon, read my book, the girls vying for a spot on my lap....bliss!
Then the phone rang at around 10am and the dream sequence ended.
It was the boy calling from work. Would it be ok if he brought a friend over this evening from work? Yes of course, I said. Would this friend be coming for dinner? (My mind on the two steaks sitting defrosting). Oh we can order pizza, my son assured me, his treat. (My plans of a lovely Christmas Eve steak dinner, just the two of us, suddenly was a pizza party...sigh). I'll have to tidy up a bit (I eyed the rug - burgundy shows all the "bits"). Oh don't go to too much trouble mum - you're sick! I wont I assured him, (knowing full well different).
I thanked him profusely for giving me the forewarning. I hate unannounced guests and like to be ready. He said he hadn't even asked his friend yet, thought he would check with me first. (Ahhhh bless his cotton socks!)
I sat there for a few minutes after his phone call. What had been nice enough and tidy enough for he and I this Christmas, suddenly wasn't good enough for visitors (even if they are male work friends coming over for pizza and a game of WoW).
I'll whip around with the hoover later I decided. Then the narrator voice in my head reminded me that the boy was home early from work yesterday as the call volume was slow. And it is Christmas Eve...and Sunday to boot! How many people could possibly be having ISP problems today?
It was enough to spur me into action and I became a whirling dervish of cleaning power. Bedrooms, computer room, bathroom, stairs, hall, powder room, living room, dining room, kitchen - it's amazing how much you can get done when you are a woman with a mission. Dusted, polished, windows sparkling, hoovered the whole she-bang. Dishwasher is humming away in the background whilst the floors are drying. 11:56...a personal record! Somebody call Norris McWhirter at Guinness!
I sat down to finish a now stone cold coffee...and the phone rang again. It was the boy. His friend possibly wouldn't be coming now after all. (A crestfallen Oh! from yours truly) He had other plans, a Christmas party to go to etc. (Perspiration was still glistening on my flu ridden forehead). But he might drop by later...it all depended on...
I wasn't listening at this point. I surveyed my living room....all neat as a pin and shinning. The whole house smells of a combination of bathroom cleaner, bleach, Pledge, Kitchen cleaner, Pinesol and Windex.
Yes, sure that was fine...no problem...right then, I'll get those two steaks back out the freezer for dinner tonight!
The boy thanked me and said I was brilliant.
Y'know, I am inclined at this moment in time to agree with him!