Last week was pretty busy. Up early and working late every day. The weekend comes, and I am in sole charge of our children. They are the most amazing people I've ever met, we have a great time together. I'll tell you the truth though, when I finally get them to bed at the end of every day I'm always mightily relieved. It's another day done and I haven't lost one or broken one or caused them some detriment by my own negligence or stupidity.
I'm glad there's no approval system for parenting, I would never have passed.
So anyway, back to sleep.
For no good reason I stay up late on Friday and Saturday watching films and drinking wine. By the end of Sundays offspring entertainment schedule and wife retrieval I am on my last legs. I fall sleep in front of the TV and crawl off to bed. It's well before 10 and I'm very pleased to be getting an early night. I sleep like a log. A log that twitches, grunts, mutters, flails and snores bestially (according to my wife, as I'm not there of course).
8 hours unbroken sleep ensues. I wake to the alarm feeling like... shit.
So here I sit at work, head thumping, red eyes rolling, thinking that: A bottle of wine and 4 hours kip is much better for me than the standard RDA.
That can't be right, can it?
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@handdrawn
I do colouring in and reading and writing but hate maths.
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