P = Procrastinating

It's astonishing how long it takes to transpose words and letters from one postcard to another.

I dither as my son watches Tom and Jerry huddled under a duvet.
"Come and join me mamma!"
"I'm just going to have a cup of tea."
"Please mummy, come under here with me."
"Let me just go outside and write this postcard darling, then I'll come back."

I take my tea, I find my response from Downing Street so I get the postcode right, and a black pen. Out I go with Nico Teen.
Nico Teen, some water, Nico Teen
More Nico Teen

"Mamma?" comes my son's voice from the living room. "Can I watch a DVD?"
"Sure you can honey!"

Breathe, breathe, breathe some more.

I go inside to see which DVD he's picked.
Hong Kong Phooey!!
"Brilliant choice son!"
"Mummy stay here," he says as I turn to go back outside.
"In a minute, I promise. I'll write the postcard and come back and watch it with you!"
Deadlines. I've always responded well to deadlines!

I copy down the letters, come back in the flat, pop my piece of card on the table and settle in next to my child.

I watch the janitor with martial art skills with my eyes closed.