Friday, March 7, 2008

The Princess and the Pee

It must be goldfish season.

Its 3:15am and my flat smells of yesterdays roast potatoes, which would be fabulous if I had made roast potatoes. My neighbours dreadful cooking haunts my dreams, it creeps into my conciousness like a foul smelling fog, draping everything in a warm, and not particularly pleasant odour. The unmistakeable scent of leftovers.
Growing up, my mum had a total inability to throw anything away, which in itself is fairly reasonable, with four kids and one salary, but nobody is growing into last sundays leftovers. Tonight my flat smells like my mum's fridge and as strangely comforting as that may sound, it is truly nauseating.
I just heard a sentence every mother dreads this early in the morning, or any time in fact - "mommy, your bed will get dry" - leftovers and pee, it doesn't get better than this!
My erratic goldfish jostle for position again, maybe they enjoy the perfume of pee and roast potatoes with just a dash of onion, whatever the reason, they are awake and swimming furiously through my conciousness. Is it lack of sleep or do I need therapy?
Darling is in Toronto this week, snuggling into a peeless sleeping bag and watching the snow... Any takers on him being jealous of my pee, potato and Angelina Ballerina rerun soup?

1 comment:

david santos said...

Thanks for your posting and have a good weekend