Monday mornings are always, always crazy in my house. Three children need to be dropped at 3 different places at about the same time. Three lunches to be made, 3 lots of clothing to be organised, me nagging 3 different children (ok, make that 2, even I can't nag a 2 1/2 year old), all in the vain hope we can get out the door by 9.02am. This Monday morning, we were even more challenged with Smith finally deciding that a potty is a better place to "put" his wee than the shower - for a period he thought the shower was his own walk in stand up toilet) and with Will's final school presentation today which meant me insisting on 2 practice run throughs.
So by the time we finally got to the car at 9.03am, I could see the home straight in 15 mins, I'd be home, get my breakfast and settle in front of the computer for a mornings work.
Only when I turned the key there was a big fat nothing.
Flat stinking battery.
Thank goodness for the goddess Ellen from next door, finished her exams and with her wee car-suitable-for-17-year-old-girls sitting in the driveway. In her pj's she gave me the keys and we were off (hmmm, it was about 9.11am by now). I like to think I managed to keep by ranting and raving to a minimum, but who am i kidding. So flustered my my mornings events, work has been non-existent so far. I'm putting to down to my bad morning and not a general apathy about the business.