‘Welcome to the new edition of this Guest Blog . I am a full-time working mum of 2 boys and a published novelist of ‘The Ninth Cross’ by my pen name J. Karst. I get involved in trying that little bit I can in saving the environment for the future generations.’
The weather seems to be mocking us. When the sun makes a presence, it changes to rain the second after. The recycling drop offs slowed down drastically. Normally I would be disappointed but this time I welcomed it. I was hit by the most life-threatening illness ever – the Man Flu.
I severely react to this illness by experiencing lethargy, low mood and pathetic attention seeking. About a day or two of experiencing severe effects, a horrific thought entered my mind – ‘oh no, I can’t smell anything’.
Anxiety overload, I called for my husband to wallow in self-pity and explain the need for a corona test. Thankfully, before my husband came to me, my dog solved the little puzzle immediately. She jumped onto the bed and gave me a huge lick across my face. The ‘Yay I can smell’ cheer followed by heaving and run to the bathroom to scrub my face. Her breath was the perfect example of why dental hygiene is important. Eventually when my husband came to my bedside and I told him the reason for my wet face, he has admitted that our dog tasted someone’s last night dinner in the field on morning walk.
Exhausted, and back in bed, I consoled myself that at least it’s not corona because my reduced olfactory function was due to a blocked nose. For couple more days I buried my nose into boxes of tissues which sadly run out. House empty, I had another conundrum to solve. I had to solve the hardest mystery ever – where does the toilet paper disappear to?
I had the last toilet roll in the whole house in my hands to blow my nose in. Not to mention that I also needed it for the primary function its been designed for. Despite of purchasing a whole new pack a week ago, the toilet roll munch monster had the lot. Whilst some families are trying to solve the issue whether to hang the paper over/under, in our household we try figure out where it’s gone. Is there a black hole in our cupboard?
Sadly, I cannot give you the answer because it remains a mystery. Upon forgetting to take with me the last bit of paper to the bog, I had to urgently call upon my husband to fetch it.
That’s when it hit me – what would the Queen do if her throne was missing the white gold hanging off its perch? Considering that she lives in a castle, her voice must carry across longer distance than mine. I only need to shout louder than my kid’s gaming, she must scream through numerous solid stone bricks. Does she have her corgis fitted with a bog roll sized rucksacks? Or is she very well organised and has a phone fitted in her bathrooms? I just hope that she doesn’t use the corgi…
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