We had an argument about socks this evening. Not normally something we'd argue about, especially as the socks in question belonged to our younger son but had ended up in the eldest's drawer.
It wouldn't have been a problem except eldest was trying to get ready to go for a job interview and was stressed beyond belief.
Suffice to say it all ended in tears. Eldest was sobbing so hard he couldn't get on the (new) correct-sized socks. Partner stormed into the bedroom and if I hadn't moved all the razors, scissors and little pokey sharp things to the (locked) porch last night would have made a lovely big gash on his arm. All he managed to do in the end was scratch himself with blunt fingernails before I went in to try and calm him down.
So I had partner at one end of the house trying to tear his bl**dy hand off with his fingernails and stressed teenager sobbing buckets at the other end of the house. And as every minute passed the interview got closer and closer and we were closer and closer to being late.
Screaming wouldn't have helped.
Unfortunately screaming was all my momentarily overwhelmed brain could come up with. In the end, jibbering with something that was a cross between tears and hysterical laughter I managed to convince partner that eldest really did need his help and that we'd solved the sock thing.
And eldest got to the interview on time, smartly dressed, did quite well and came out smiling.
Ice cream all round, except that I'm supposed to be on a diet as I'm 2 1/2 stone overweight - so I comfort eat, so sue me - except that I've got an operation myself coming up next year and I need to lose weight or else the surgeon won't do it.
Partner is supposed to be on a diet too but managed to polish off a family sized, 1-litre tub of honeycomb ice cream all by himself in record time before shutting himself in the bathroom with his kindle.
I love my family!
It wouldn't have been a problem except eldest was trying to get ready to go for a job interview and was stressed beyond belief.
Suffice to say it all ended in tears. Eldest was sobbing so hard he couldn't get on the (new) correct-sized socks. Partner stormed into the bedroom and if I hadn't moved all the razors, scissors and little pokey sharp things to the (locked) porch last night would have made a lovely big gash on his arm. All he managed to do in the end was scratch himself with blunt fingernails before I went in to try and calm him down.
So I had partner at one end of the house trying to tear his bl**dy hand off with his fingernails and stressed teenager sobbing buckets at the other end of the house. And as every minute passed the interview got closer and closer and we were closer and closer to being late.
Screaming wouldn't have helped.
Unfortunately screaming was all my momentarily overwhelmed brain could come up with. In the end, jibbering with something that was a cross between tears and hysterical laughter I managed to convince partner that eldest really did need his help and that we'd solved the sock thing.
And eldest got to the interview on time, smartly dressed, did quite well and came out smiling.
Ice cream all round, except that I'm supposed to be on a diet as I'm 2 1/2 stone overweight - so I comfort eat, so sue me - except that I've got an operation myself coming up next year and I need to lose weight or else the surgeon won't do it.
Partner is supposed to be on a diet too but managed to polish off a family sized, 1-litre tub of honeycomb ice cream all by himself in record time before shutting himself in the bathroom with his kindle.
I love my family!