Monday 24th July
Is it still only Monday I thought as we headed straight to the supermarket. The trip arduous. The roads thin, bendy, and vomit enducing. I should have driven myself as Carolyn took a corner like a blind man racing. I hung onto the rail above my head, silently spitting venom. The girls swayed from left to right, Ruby felt sick. Vivien just squeaked. We were all hungry and tired. The girls were demanding music, so I put on an old Bob Dylan number and got lost in Maggie’s Farm until Carolyn rudely swapped Bob for Bruno Mars. I was outruddynumbered. I sat back, closed my eyes, and reminisced the good old days when I had no responsibilities. The emergency stop shook me to the core, my body lurched forward and the water I was sipping travelled up my nose as I snorted in anger, and into my eyes. Carolyn was swearing at the woman in front and I was swearing just because I could. We had arrived at the supermarket.
My gusset was damp. The girls were red faced and crying with hunger and tiredness. Carolyn just hungry. I walked in, ordered Carolyn to take the trolley and I would grab the food. The girls shivered and turned blue down the refridgated isle. People stared. I stared back. The whole ruddy experience was a nightmare. I broke away and found myself in the wine isle where I caressed a bottle of Margaux and dribbled at the Bollinger. Alas we had a budget, so I came away with poor man’s champagne and a bottle of Rose. Oh how the good old days have gone.
The house was fabulous, as always. Plenty of space, and spitting distance to the beach. The sun was out and the sky blue. Let’s hit it I said and off we went. Surely it must be time for a snifter?
myfamilyandothermillers 