Bloomin’ foxes

They woke me up this morning. At first I lay in bed stunned at the noise they were making. Imagine a posse of dogs strung out on amphetamines and helium scrapping over a pile of bones. Then multiply the noise by 10. I heaved myself upwards, went to the window, opened it and yelled ‘Scoot’. And scoot they did, two of the hugest foxes I have ever seen. They went all the way to the third house from mine, and then they resumed their infernal yapping. So back to the window I went, and this time I yelled ‘Clearoff’. This time they went further away, out of earshot. It was about 3am in the morning, and I declare that if I’d have had a shotgun, I’d have happily blasted them to infinity and beyond. I was that vexed. I don’t know how I feel about fox-hunting for sport, but I honestly believe that every urban fox ought to be EXTERMINATED. Rant over.

Following on from all that, I jerked awake at 7.30am, on a school morning! I rushed around the house like a whirlwind, trying to get me and the girls out in time for school. It’s been a banana week so far, so both girls got one each in their school bags. (Oh, Etoddler now goes to nursery five days a week. She has also taken to walking like a Dalek when she feels self-conscious). Anyways, we made it to school just as the bell went, so that was okay. As we walked in, I noticed a couple of children with their swim bags. I had a sinking feeling in my tummy as  remembered I hadn’t packed Egirl’s swim towel. Yes, she had taken her swim bag into school on Monday, but sans her towel. I blame the foxes.

I drove back home, and called the GP’s surgery to find out what time Ebaby’s jabs were scheduled for. Their computer was down, so I was told to call back later. Shortly after, the phone rang, it was Toks. While we talked, I moaned about the foxes, powered on my pc so I could pay the girls’ school fees and played a few moves of Scrabble. Call ended, I brushed Ebaby’s teeth (more about those teeth in a moment), then looked for the invoice. I found the invoice, was nursing Ebaby, when she suddenly decided to sink her teeth into me. I yelped. It. Hurt. A. Lot. I stuck my thumb into the side of her mouth to break her hold, retrieved the bitten part of my anatomy, and promptly returned it a place of safety. I told her sternly ‘You do not bite your mama’, and for once she looked suitably chastened. I decided it was time to take Egirl’s towel to her at school, so stood up, powered off the pc, and then remembered that I still hadn’t paid the fees. The adrenaline was still flowing through me from the force of the bite so I did not pause for breath till I was driving back out.

Dropped off the towel, and was driving back home when Ebaby started fussing in the back of the car. I took my cap off my head and  handed it to her as I waited at the traffic lights. Glanced back a bit later to see her fast asleep clutching said cap. Got home, put her in bed, she’s still sleeping as I type.

Called surgery again, this time I’m told her jabs are at 1.30pm. I have paid the girls’ fees, and have the princely sum of not a lot left in my account. Happy days.

Other news, it’s been a year and six days since I started blogging. Thank you for reading about life, as I see it.


About Joxy

When I'm not cooking or thinking about cooking, then I'm writing, or thinking about writing. I love misdirection....nothing is ever what it seems!
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4 Responses to Bloomin’ foxes

  1. The Wordsmythe says:

    You poor dear, what a day! And it’s not even noon yet.

    I feel you on the foxes, especially since one of them mauled those twins in their own home!

    I vaguely remember you saying Ebaby would be weaned at age 1. 2 months and counting! Perhaps the thought of her gnashers on a cerain tender part of your anatomy should serve as a reminder.
    Congratulations on your one year and a bit blogging anniversary. Here’s to many more!

    • Joxy says:

      I thought I’d wean her off gradually. Rethinking that thought though. Thanks re anniversary, upwards and onwards for us all IJN 🙂

  2. Gradually and before midday don’t belong in the same sentence! Pele about the foxes, not fun at all. And congrats on your anniversary too! I haven’t read one boring bit!

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