Beautiful baby and I are on day release, we can leave the hospital during the day and can wander around berkshire freely but as the sky turns dusky and bb’s eyelids start to droop we have to head back to the ward before we turn into pumpkins.
I imagine this is what life must be like if you are electronically tagged, but without the naughty pleasure of committing a crime.
I have to honest it was something of a relief to head back to cell block H. After watching twin boy and girl systematically shred eighty presents and hearing them whoop and shriek with excitement that only brightly coloured plastic goods can bring I am officially nik nak paddy whacked. The z bed in a sauna was looking pretty appealing as I closed the front door stepping away from the choas of home into the quiet of the evening.
But it seems that I have really upset the big man this week. As I returned to my brightly painted cell greeted the nurses, I suddenly heard my new bunk mate; and he wasn’t calling out “hello, nice to meet you.” Seriously baby beautifuls new neighbour has a volume switch to rival twin boys. He is like a fog horn on loudspeaker. I appreciate the little fella is poorly and I understand the frustration of being cooped up on the ward but jaysus I am on night three of being here this week and I haven’t stood on the bed yelling like a demented dragon simultaneously beating the patient line television with the ridiculous ‘too expensive to call’ phone. (Although I confess I was tempted to when trying to enter payment details into the aforementioned television so I could have some viewing pleasure.)
Suddenly home looks as peaceful as a closed library as I dodge flying yogurt pots and close my ears to a finely tuned whinge. Bb and I fear that he is looking to start a riot so we have withdrawn into our curtained square. If we look to be involved we may lose our right to free tea.
Ah buggerdy I just heard Damian’s mum say he has slept all day; we all know what that means….
Come back twin boy, your loudness is forgiven.
Think of me.