Moan Alert Moan Alert
Fuxache. I got up at 7am today, fed BB and started packing. At 8am I sent Boo upstairs to get TG out of bed and also get herself dressed while I made her breakfast. Her breakfast sat on the table for an hour and half as TG decided to stay in bed with her and read stories. WTF?!
AND. My bloody parents were supposed to be here this morning to look after the girls while TG and I pack. They now won't be here until lunchtime.
Mum hadn't even showered by 10.30. And they live an hours drive away.
AND TG asked me (when he eventually got his arse out of bed) why I was packing books when he could do that. So I replied that I couldn't continue to pack the kitchen whilst he is making bacon and egg butties. For himself - I was not offered. He then also said shouldn't I be packing the things that he couldn't. When I asked for clarification, he said he can pack the books as they are too heavy for me, his clothes and his gaming stuff.
Right, so I pack the rest of the house? I asked why couldn't he pack the girls stuff - all we have to do is chuck clothes in a binbag after all. He said he'd probably do it wrong... ARRRRGGGGHHHHHHHH
My calm zen has gone and instead I'm like Mount fucking Etna, ready to blow at any minute.
It is gone 11am and so far TG has had a fucking fry up and fed BB. He is now lying on the floor playing with her instead of changing her nappy.
Moan over. Apologies. It was moan in here or kick the dog, but she is already look most upset at the disruption, poor love.
As you were.