The kids love their new school and the wife likes her new job. I'm quite enjoying my temporary role as well.
I've done the school run, dropped the wife off at work, done a bit of housework, watched some daytime telly (Oz Aerobics) and now I'm in Albury's wonderful, new library.
Such is my daily routine as Mr. Mum.
I had my first mild bout of homesickness this weekend. It was very mild and only lasted an hour or two. It was brought on by a couple of happenings from home - the Esplanade Club's annual outing to Bangor-on-Dee races and the boys from the Swan phoning me up in the middle of their Sunday session.
It was the middle of the night here and I was fast asleep when my mobile went off. I looked at the caller ID on my phone - Pepsi Max.
Now, everyone at home reading this blog knows Pepsi to be the ultimate pest and nuisance calls are a big part of his very limited repertoire, so I rejected the call. I sat up in bed, put my phone on silent, 'puffed up' my pillow and lay back down, hoping to resume my 'sandwich' dream from last week.
A sleepless minute passed before my phone started vibrating. Although my phone was in silent mode, in the dead of night the noise from the vibration is quite audible. I looked at the screen, it read 'Private Number'.
This is the caller ID you get from an unrecognised number from the U.K. I immediately associated the call with Pepsi the Pest and let it ring. It rang for an absolute age before ceasing. 'Very persistent,' I thought.
A couple of minutes later it rang again with the same ID. Again, it rang for ages. By now I was awake, thinking something dreadful had happened back home and someone was desperate to get hold of us.
The next time it rang I picked up straight away, only to be greeted by some clown asking for a kebab. The next thing I heard was raucous laughter - the type of laughter you get when the people doing the laughing have consumed an afternoon's worth of ale.
And that's exactly what it was, the lads down at The Swan enjoying their Sunday afternoon drink and, more so, enjoying interrupting my much required beauty sleep. It must have been on speaker-phone because I could hear all of the idiots
I spoke to a couple of them, which was nice, but it was the background noise of a busy British pub that made me want to be there.
As for the Esplanade trip to the races, this was the first one I've missed for years. It's a great day out, definitely one of the highlights on our social calender. The memories we've got from this event down the years still tickle me - I can still see Bob Bishop hurtling down the centre aisle of the coach last year, microphone in hand, crashing into the windscreen.
How we all laughed as he was carried out of the Esp on a spinal board.
I'm crying laughing just writing about it. To those who don't know, I'm pleased to say that Bob made a full recovery and was present on the trip this year. Tina had to book a different coach firm though, I believe.
My mum and dad are regulars on the trip these days and I had a few text messages from them and from friends letting me know how the day was going. Once again Mum managed to uphold the proud family tradition by getting well and truly trashed.
The last two text messages I got were from Matty.
The first one said -'Your mum is sh#tfaced'
'Oh no, not again,' I said to the wife.
The second one, an hour later, informed me that she'd been sick on Tina, the landlady.
Ma, what are you like?
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