A Wee Do In The House

This time next week I’ll be in the throes of a 12 year olds birthday party.
None of your jelly and ice cream and a game of pass the parcel. No, no my daughter has taken the throw away comment of “have what ever you want” and run with it. Quite literally.
So, the wee hall is booked up hence she now has a massive hall to fill with her nearest and dearest, and a few mates from school. The wee madam hasn’t even considered that she is starting high school in a few days and there is a whole…… new group of friends out there.
So, after work today (I’ll get to that in a minute) she whisked me of to the local party prop shop for STUFF.
Who ever knew a 12 year old needed so much junk to make their party perfect. I remember a ‘do’ in the house with a few buddies from my street and my aunties and uncles dropping by with gifts in ribbons and bows. Well, maybe not exactly, but you get the gist. We will have a spectacular festival of tinsel and baubles on show next week and I’ve not even started on the DJ. Lets hope my purse can survive.

So, work on a Saturday. Me, can you believe it? The last time I worked a weekend shift All Saints were top of the charts. Leonardo Di Caprio was still baby faced and I still thought Marti Pellow was ‘aw right’.
My new job requires me to cover the odd weekend health check event. As this was my first one I made sure I was sans hangover. Didn’t think it would be too braw if I turned up stinking of booze and trying to convince the good people of ‘Whitehill’ that 14 units really are sufficient for the week. These events are guaranteed to make you smile. Our stall (providing health checks and lifestyle intervention advice) was set up right next to the one offering chocolate covered kebabs!!

Weekend work prevented me from making my way south to the now comfortingly familiar sights and sounds of Lahndan town. Little did I know this time last year what a difference one wee email would make. Don’t forget.
Take each day as it comes.
Expect the unexpected and if you don’t live life on the edge your taking up too much room.

Laters,

Mrs Mac