Things That Go Bump in the Night

Heather sustained a ding on the head last night from dropping an i-pod speaker upon herself from a great height. This resulted in the application of a cold compress to stop the bleeding and the possibilty of growing a bump the size of a grape or potentially an egg. She said she slept well afterwards.

Unlike me who was woken in the wee small hours by what I thought was a gushing torrent of water a la the volume of Niagara Falls.

My immediate, and irrational thought was,' Oh blimey! The water tank in the loft has burst!'
To wit the rational part of my brain (which was clearly more awake than the rest of me) said, 'Don't be an idiot - there isn't a water tank in the loft. Much Malarkey Manor is, in fact, water tankless.'
'Thank goodness for that,' I thought. 'And then I thought, 'Oh blimey! The new shower has burst and is flooding the house whilst I lie here like a fool trying to sleep at 1 in the morning.'

I got out of bed. Luckily, the floor was dry. Even more luckily, my brain had achieved correct functioning synchronicity with my ears and I realised I wasn't, in fact, hearing gushing water, I was, in fact, hearing a helicopter.

Opening the bedroom window, I looked towards Orion. It was a very clear night. Clear and freezing cold. 'Jupiter looks very bright tonight,' I thought. Then Jupiter started flashing red and orange lights and moving at a remarkable speed and I realised it wasn't Jupiter, it was the helicopter. I cursed the helicopter for waking me and went back to bed.

The helicopter hung around for ages. Back and forth it went. I thought, 'Oh blimey, suppose it's a police helicopter searching for an escaped crazy gun-toting criminal? What if we are all about to be murdered in our beds?'

And then I had to sit up and say a 'look-after-this -house-the-people-therein' prayer. And then another one for Chris, Leane and Kayleigh in case the crazy gun-toting murderer was over their neck of the woods. And then I said another one for the neighbours in an act of selfless neighbourliness, even though some of them are really irritating people, with their stupid car parking antics and loud drunken barbeques that go until Lord knows what hour of the night during summer.

About an hour later I was woken by the Saturday night parade of cars passing by belonging, I assume, to people returning from clubbing in the town. I thought, 'Clubs should close at 11 p.m so everyone is home by midnight, thus allowing NORMAL people like me the chance to get a decent night's sleep.' And then I thought I was being a sour-puss, grumpy-face party pooper. And then I thought no, I wasn't, and that when I was Prime Minister I'd pass a law to shut all pubs and clubs at 11 like in THE GOOD OLD DAYS.

An hour beyond that I woke with the mother of all hot flushes so I hung out of the window again and had a discussion with Orion about the price of self-raising flour AND plum tomatoes going up again and what was the world coming to? Luckily, the helicopter had gone and the crazy gun-toting murderer presumably caught and in prison.

By 5 am I was thinking that maybe I should offer my writing room to Heather and her boyfriend because it is bigger than the room they currently share. I would then move up into their room which is a bit smaller but has the advantage of being sunnier and brighter. They have alot of combined tat between them and I think it was partly this that caused the crashing of the i-pod speaker into Heather's head. I thought, 'If we swap rooms I would have my writing room next to Andy's study and we could converse with each other at a normal volume rather than yell at each other up and down the stairs as is our current wont to do when we are working and a tea break is imminent. Also, if Heather and her boyfriend have a night out, they wouldn't disturb us when they come back home and have trouble putting one foot in front of the other in order to negotiate the stairs quietly. I mean, I'm not likely to become Prime Minister for a year or two so shan't be able to implement my early closing for pubs and clubs law for a while.'

At 7 I was prodded by Andy who declared he'd had a great night's sleep and here was a cup of tea for me.

We then had a chat about how, now we are back on our healthy eating plan in an attempt to lose another stone each, that we should rename Saturday 'Fatterday' because that's our weigh-in day, and if we couldn't have a diet splurge straight after that, then when could we? Then we larked about with song titles that had 'Saturday' in their titles and thought it was all very hilarious! I blame it on lack of sleep - I don't know what Andy's excuse was.

So, there we are. At some point over the next week I shall be relocating upstairs, Heather's bump will subside and after Friday will come Fatterday.