The small things

Sometimes it’s the small things that tip you over the edge.

This morning, my main task was to post gifts to my brother and parents. It took me 20 minutes to locate the Christmas wrapping paper (in sleeping TallGirl’s room - all four rolls). A further 10 minutes to establish that someone had swiped not only the kitchen sellotape, but also that secret roll I have hidden under the printer, and then finally find a tiny bit left on a roll in an old set of drawers. A further 10, verging on tearful, moments were spent looking for where someone had hidden the packing tape which by tradition lives on the kitchen mantelpiece and is a repository for spare change and paper clips. The heap of spare change and paper clips were there, but the ever present packing tape had clearly grown legs and walked as no-one in the house was owning up to moving it (and Mr B has never sent a parcel in his life).

At this point, with 15 minutes until the Post Office deadline, I a little bit cracked. Obviously it wasn’t really over the packing tape: it was over Brexit meaning my earnings (in pounds) will drop further, my kids’ education is at risk, Mr B might not be able to get home, CarbBoy might not be allowed on his school trip in April. Suddenly, I’ll be a foreigner in my own Europe. And I have so much work to do and can somebody else just be responsible for filling the dishwasher one time? And why have the kids still not unpacked the Christmas decorations? And why has TallGirl still not tidied away last weekend’s baking stuff that she promised she’d put away. And will anyone ever be my backstop just for a minute so I can have a break from being everyone else’s?

So, obviously, I dried my eyes, did the shopping, had lunch, put the dishwasher on and drove CarbBoy to his basketball match. While they warmed up, I finished off some Christmas shopping, then I cheered along the team to a well earned victory, commiserated with CarbBoy on his bumps and scrapes and drove home to make dinner for a suddenly ‘dizzy’ TallGirl and us all.

Life goes on.