Yesterday was one of those perfect end-of-winter days. Bright blue skies, warm sunshine, birds singing.
The dog playfully jumped on us in bed in the morning. Breakfast was lovely. A few chores were taken care of out in the glorious weather with no complaints. A bit of pleasant gift shopping completed. Lunch at a cafe we love was totally scrumptious, while enjoying even more sunshine. A bit of a stroll, a few photos were taken, and on to my favourite flower shop.
A stunning pot of flowers was bought as a gift, and as a gift to myself, a big bunch of stocks was also grabbed. The lovely salesgirl threw in a couple of large bunches of jonquils for free, and my day was made.
Back in the car, balancing these big bouquets on my lap, between my legs, and headed for our next destination....I felt something....wet.
"I think I've wet myself."
"Just kidding....the plastic wrap around the flowers has split and the water that was in the bottom has run out. Onto my seat. Between my legs. I'm wet."
"Enough to drown in."
"So we're heading home instead?"
"Duh. Unless you want to be seen in public with me, walking around like a toddler with a full nappy, doing that special legs-spread-wet-pant-walk."
And then we discovered those few chores that were accomplished in the morning required some follow up. The Husband had accidentally smeared paint over one of our sensor lights. Right where we want it to "sense" us.
Then those two small drops of green paint he had spilled onto the paving and "cleaned up", had turned into, now it had dried, two enormous green circles where he had spread it.
The dog jumped on us, covered in dirt, after she had dug a huge hole in the backyard. This followed us discovering she had chewed the Husband's electric toothbrush into 37 pieces.
We forgot to organise anything at all for dinner.
And all the stunning bunches of flowers I arranged throughout the house caused both The Husband and The Daughter to go into complete whinging, whining, itchy-eyed, sniffling hayfever meltdown.