|Essential School Holiday reading|
Getting up in the morning has drifted from the regimented to the frankly, slack. After the huge build up and early waking caused by the promise of presents and then the days spent eating more sugar than you will admit to their dentist and running around like a lunatic clutching toys as the tree lights flash in techno timing, the children are completely exhausted. First day back at school and work is going to require some serious prep and negotiation to make sure we get there on time and in the right clothing. It will be a very bad day indeed if she wears my leopard print kitten heels and I wear her princess dress.
Today, after venturing out to the shops to try to find something that is neither 40% saturated fat or 40% proof for our cupboards, our daughter said to me: "it feels like Sunday, doesn't it?" Quite right she was too, and it took us a few seconds to agree on what day it actually was but the question that hurt our brains the most was one posed by our son when he asked us: "is today, tomorrow?". This prompted a five minute conversation about how yes, if today were yesterday (which it wasn't) then today would indeed be tomorrow, but today is now today, which makes tomorrow, tomorrow, and not today tomorrow because today was tomorrow but only when viewed from yesterday. At the end of this explanation (which to my mind was worthy of a pat on the back from Brian Cox although in fairness I think he's more of a hair-ruffler than a back-patter), he added neatly that if that were the case, then could he please have a tree chocolate. Because I'd told him yesterday that he could have one tomorrow.
So thank you, oh school timetable warlords; you have brought physics to the forefront of our conversations and inspired our son with science but if you wouldn't mind sending me a new copy of a Brief History of Time before the Easter Holiday kicks in, I'd be very grateful.
Soundtrack: How Soon is Now by The Smiths