The life of jen

I think I live in a comedy most of the time, and I'm sure I get it from my mother.

Last week whilst lying in bed because she couldn't hardly move, she was telling me that everytime she walked and got a spasm, she fell over because she couldn't keep herself up, which I was very worried about, mainly because I've worked on a brain injury unit, and am obsessed about people hitting their heads. So I told her she should be wearing a crash helmet which she thought was hilarious, and  I consequently renamed her 'Mrs Twit' because she said she could walk bent over with two walking sticks. She was telling me comic stories of what had happened whilst she was lyeing on the floor, not able to get up, whilst Olive the cat had caught a mouse which was she was chasing around my mum at the same time. So despite a rather awful situation, we were laughing our heads of. Anyway, she insisted that she wanted to take a short walk every hour, I said OK but she had to text me when she made it back to bed, so thats what she did. About three oclock in the afternoon, I get a phonecall of of her, with a yelp of 'help, help' which completely panicked me, and then she proceeded to laugh for about 10 minutes, she thought it was hilarious, I could have killed her for messing about at the beginning, but it was very funny, and a typical joke from my mum. And I realised we are alike, I live in a comedy too, probably a good way of coping I think.

I was sat organising and labelling yarn about 5.30 this afternoon and was thinking that I was sure there was something happening tonight, then I remembered that I have two people coming to stay from the university about 6.30, I don't know them, but I offered to rent them a room for a couple of nights whilst they look for accomodation for when they start a job with my boss.

Shock horrow, my house is a complete tip, but its ok because all the linen is washed, so after hoovering for about an hour because there is so much fluff around, I finally put the clean linen on the bed, but to my dismay, not only is it not ironed, as I don't believe in ironing, there was loads of fluff, my washing machine must be well fluffed up. I was panicking now, it looked minging, then I had the bright idea of defluffing with packing tape, and my goodness it worked a treat, that quilt cover might be crinkled, but its fluff and sparkle free, god knows where the sparkles come from, I swear I'll be burried with them. I shoved all the crap in the cupboards, must remember not to open them ever again. And walked to the door with a hand full of fluffy tape and welcomed my guests with open arms, especially seeing as they bought me two bottles of vino.

So I was laughing to myself thinking about how I love to make a comedy out of everything, just like my mum does, and the worse it is, the more I laugh. Lol, so there, just thought I'd share that little story.

PS cleaning is so much quicker if you do it without your glasses on.