The wrong number.

Sunday, up massively bright and early.

When I say bright and early, I do mean about , 6am ish. We watched some TV in bed the night before and I some how managed to stay awake till about 2am. You know that feeling, when you are shattered, but it’s the middle of the day, so you struggle on. You struggle on so much that you start to wake up again…..well Saturday evening was like that, so the early hours of Sunday morning was fucked before it even had a chance to begin.

Up, showered and sorted, we had a massive day ahead of us sorting the numerous piles of shit out in the lounge, ready for the builder the following day.

But, stupidly, we decided to fob that off and slouch around on the sofa, watching some more of the Umbrella Academy on Netflix. Like I keep saying, it’s good, and worthy of binge watching.

Two episodes later, we decided to we needed to make a start, when I realise it’s only 10.30….how!? I feel like I’ve been up all week.

Thebeanspoonerswife tells me to go and have a half hour power nap, in the vain attempt this might prompt my arse to wake up some.

So I’m asleep, again, at 10.30am! She pleasantly shouts up the stairs around noon, for me to get my arse up and out of bed. I’ve already been awake for about 10 minutes. I’ve already heard her shouting at the cat who was being sick, or sounding like he was trying too….fucking cat. He’s probably been out whoring himself for food with our elderly neighbours!

I’ve already heard her having a positive, but sarcastic argument with Magoo, over god knows what.

I’m in that state of awake, where I really want to go back to sleep, bit I’m forcing my eyes to keep open…..I’m trying so hard!

Turns out while I was power napping, she had made a start on the lounge.

She’s awesome and I think, like myself, is dreading doing it.

Three quarters of the way through, we decide to stop and grab some lunch. We aren’t the traditional Sunday roast family. We never have been. Magoo isn’t overly keen on roast dinners, and we would rather have one in the middle of the week….no idea why, we just would.

Lunch sorted and back to it

Wires, miles and miles of wires.

Where the hell have they all come from and where the hell are they all going? I’ve taken a few pictures for reference, for when I’m having the world’s biggest shit fit trying to put it all back together after the building work is done. Wires though, wires everywhere.

4 hours after we have started (we did have a break for lunch), it’s finally done. Well the sorting of piles of books, dvds, and computer games has been sorted and stored away. Lounge floor all cleaned and tidied, and everything we will need while the work is being done, has been left out handy, and ready if it’s needed.

Finally over.

Magoo is hiding in his room playing with his toys and games, as the lounge is bare and slightly odd. Hobbes has gone out and Bruce is hiding under the coffee table (his pit and bed) as he’s wondering what the hell is going on.

The lounge looks bare. But the work needs to be done, so we can cope with the randomness for a few days.

Dinner is cooking away, and we are doing our own things.

Magoo is binge watching something on youtube, or Netflix and we are just about to sit down and relax.

Dinner eaten, and Magoo looks shattered. He’s taken himself off to sit on his bed and hopefully settle before sleep time.

I can tell thebeanspoonerswife is tired.

You know, you can tell, can’t you, without the other person saying it,how tired they are, just by looking at them. She has that look, and it doesn’t help she hasn’t felt her best all day. A bug I think, but when you have a 7 year old, you always have something!

An early night is in order.

Off we all went, everything is ready for thebeanspoonerswife day at work, and everything is ready for the builder.

I really do need a good sleep tonight. I think we all do, especially Magoo!

I wonder how he’s going to cope with the building work going on this week?!

Oh shit, the wrong number. No one, and I mean no one we know, except family, call our landline. It’s like the red bat phone.

It rang today, and oddly I decided to answer it. It was an older lady looking for a couple, who I assume we’re her friends. When she asked after the man, I said no, it’s thebeanpooner. She carried the conversation on like I knew who she was and she had gotten my name wrong in the first instance. Anyways, she explained her and her husband were running late, and they would meet us at the restaurant.

I was dying.

I politely told her I had never heard of her or her husband, and I think that she may have dialled the wrong number. She was gob smacked, she started to laugh and then asked me if I’d had a nice day, and she hoped I was having a nice weekend. She then proceeded to tell me the people she was after, had recently moved house, and she thinks she has copied their address over to the new slot in her address book, but not copied their phone number over. We both had a nice chuckle, she said it had been nice to speak to me and apologised again before she said bye and put the phone down.

Nicest wrong number ever!

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