Bloody .....bloody.... crappy ..... morning!

I am sure that today was a test commisioned by a bearded chap sitting on a fluffy white cloud. It all started when my car keys disappeared *puff* into the ether. Normally, I am anal extremely organised.... a place for everything and all that.... but this time, I couldn't find them anywhere. I pulled my living room and kitchen apart, and still, nothing.

Then I had a thought. "Izzy," I shouted up the stairs, "have you been playing with my car keys?"

The little voice came back, "yes I haaaave."

"Where did you put them?" I shouted back.

"They're in the caaaar......" she yelled.

In.The.Bloody.Car. Sacre bleu! Nevermind, the mystery had been solved, so I went outside to retrieve the slippery suckers...... only  to find out that they were in the ignition...... and the ignition was turned on. [AAARGH].

'Bloody, flipping, nora,' I thought to myself, and jumped into the driver's seat to see if the thing would start. Nothing. The battery was as flat as roadkill [DOH]. I leapt out the car cursing, just as a neighbour was passing.

"Car won't start?" he smiled as he walked past. What is it about living in the countryside? Every time I have a drama, it seems that there is a 'passing' villager only too pleased to provide me with an audience.

I ran inside and telephoned Izzy's Dad; "I need you to take Izzy to school," I shouted breathlessly, "my car's got a flat battery."

"No problem," he replied and hung up. Phew. It looked like she might just make it to school on time.

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Deep breath.... ommmmm.

"Izzy," I shouted up the stairs, "are you ready to leave? Daddy is taking you to school."

A small voice came back; "I feel sick." [WHAT?]

"Quick! Run to the toilet and be sick there," I hollered, running up the stairs two at a time.

"I can't, I'm already sitting on the toilet," she shouted, and a moment later, I heard the shudder-worthy sound of stomach contents hitting the polished oak floor [AWW, CRAP].

After charging into the bathroom, I was met with the sorry sight of Izzy on the toilet, surrounded by a sea of sick, and in need of a full change of clothes. It was like a scene from Platoon.

"Oh no, you poor thing, are you ok?" I asked her with concern.

"Yeh fine," she replied, grinning at me.

"But you've just been sick sweetheart," I replied with puzzlement.

"It's because I ate a bit of ice-cube," she said (somewhat spuriously if you ask me).

A rapid change of clothes later, Izzy was bundled out of the front door and into her Dad's car, and I was left facing the clean-up operation. I don't need to go into the details; you can picture it for yourself. Needless to say, it was harsh, and to make matters worse, halfway through, the knocker sounded on the front door.

So there I was, covered in sick, opening the front door to.... the Cooker Engineer....... [OH CRAP].... I had forgotten that he was coming. Some time ago, my grill had developed a fault whereby it turned itself off after 10 minutes, and then re-ignited itself 5 minutes later, and I had booked this repair ages ago - not only that, it was the third time someone had been out to try and fix it.

Mr Cooker Engineer looked me up and down and introduced himself;  "I'm 'ere to sort out yer cooker," he said. I couldn't help but notice that he covered his nose with the back of his hand as he regarded me. That'll be the 'eau de puke', then.

I pointed him in the direction of the kitchen, and after 20 minutes labour, things finally seemed to be getting back in order. The bathroom was clean. I had changed my clothes. And Mr Cooker Engineer seemed to have fathomed out the problem - "your grill is tripping out, cos it is overheating, see," he said.

He continued......  "I've cut a hole in the bottom to improve the ventilation," he said, proudly pointing at a bit of decimated skirting.

So where were we?.... Sick cleaned up...check. Cooker fixed..check. Car working..... not quite check - but I had managed to blag a lift to Halfords in Oxford to pick up some Jump Leads. One hour later, after recharging the battery, I tentatively tried to start the car.... Car started!.... check.

Phew. After a bloody shitty morning, things were back to "normal". And to celebrate, I decided to have a pitta bread filled with grilled bacon and tomato, for my lunch.

It would've been lovely if the grill hadn't of died ten minutes into cooking my bacon..... oh yes, Mr Cooker Engineer hadn't fixed the problem. So it was with a heavy heart that I booked another Engineer to come and look at the cooker..... and then poured myself a bowl of Cheerios.