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SOLD!


Well would you adam and eve it, I've sold my house! Again!
So right here right now, I'm just going to say how I have never won the lottery and how amazing it would be to win (just in case anything I write on here comes true)

I've done some pretty intense house hunting this week and have now decided upon my dream home. So I've made an offer. And now I'm just waiting. It's been two days. I'm still waiting. I feel like the estate agents are now screening my calls, because I feel the need to phone them on the hour every hour asking for any news.
The waiting is excruciating. Every time the phones rings or beeps, I'm like a coiled spring. And every time its my mum asking if they've rung yet.
No mum. They've not rung yet. Probably because they can't get through as you are on the phone to me asking if they've rung yet. Again.

And the more I wait, the more I cannot cope with the idea of living anywhere but there. I love it. So bright and airy and open. I am fully aware many people prefer lots of separate rooms, but that's just not me. I need to know what my children are doing at all times because lets face facts here - if they can't see you and you can't see them , there's bound to be glue sticks and glitter involved.

To attempt to take my mind of 'waiting' and to get ahead before I return to work and never have time to do anything ever again, I have been trying to focus on 'project school uniform'.
I have already bought the whole kit and caboodle once. But then school cleverly and conveniently decided to change the whole damn get up. I found the receipt stuck to side of the bin by a cold soggy tea bag. Quick spray of dettol and it was fine.

So that's gone back, and ever since I've been searching for the holy grail. School trousers that fit. My eldest son is seven and will be starting year three in September. I don't know what's happened (well...er....apart from lockdown) but every pair of trousers makes him look like a large quantity of sausage meat being squeezed in to it's skin on the Generation Game.
I mean he's a big lad, but not that big! I've never thought of him as having a big bum, but in school trousers suddenly he'd give Kim Kardashian a run for her money.
So I've took the plunge and bought him some big bum trousers, aka 'plus fit'. What I can't get my head round is, they sell 'plus fit' in skinny leg, slim leg or regular leg. It's a mine field.

Then there's footwear. He needs school shoes and trainers, for P.E of course. But now he's a size 3 and a half (!) they no longer do our bezzy mate 'victor velcro straps' in his size. So we spent quite a painful day learning to tie shoe laces. And of course I made the fatal mistake of referring to the shoe lace loops as 'bunny ears' so now my youngest son thinks we are getting a pet rabbit.
During a momentary lapse in concentration (I do not want a pet rabbit) I asked what he would call it. He replied; "I dunno. Barry or something."

Well I'd better love you and leave you. So I can phone the estate agents again. They'll be getting withdrawal symptoms. And then of course there's loads of other housey stuff to sort out. Why is life always full of  so much stuff?



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