For the first time in the lives of my tender offspring they have brought home school books that need a cover on them, STAT! (I have no idea why people say that in hospitals when there is a hurry on but it seemed apprope.)
Anyhoo, two girls = a gazillion books.
How much cover do I need - measure, measure X (a gazillion) = metres of the stuff.
Go shopping. Shop all out, look at empty shelf surrounded by cloud of other desperate, hovering mothers. Try another shop. Masses of covering stuff purchased. No bananas this week because I spent all the money. Bad luck, monkey girls.
Sit down with book mountain, ruler, scissors and covering.
Measure, measure, cut, cut, put around to check - oh bugger, missed by that much*.
Crumple up and throw out. Oh bugger. If that wasn't so damned crumpled I could have used it for a smaller book.
Moving on, measure, measure, cut, cut, check size, peel off backing paper, get sticky bit attached to arm, depilate arm removing sticky bit, sticky bits stick together, reluctant to come apart, roll into ball, cursing and swearing and throw it into bin with now hairless arm.
Start again, measure, measure, cut, cut, check, peel, stick, "How the hell did that bubble appear?", push bubble, "How the hell did that fold appear?", "Who cares!", tuck in the edges and finish the thing.
Repeat X (a gazillion).
Wake up sweating, accidently kick cat leaning on my leg, retrieve pillow from floor after feeling around in the dark, take slurp from glass hoping the cat has not beem there first and contemplate the hell that is coming tomorrow when I actually have to do this task.
Tickle cat, flop back down and hope to dream of grown-up children complaining about having to cover their children's books.
* Said in a Maxwell Smart accent - sense of humour still holding out at this stage.
Addendum: 13 seconds of research later, there appears to be some mothers who have a slightly more professional approach to their mothering duties. I highly recommend this woman or this one (with a helpful video) if you find yourself in a pickle, though I wouldn't peek if you are at all prone to feel inadequate or half-arsed. Bring on a stiff gin, I say. Don't hold the limes.
Addendum 2 - the ginier one. Whatever you do, don't follow those links. If you are reading my blog you are probably not psychologically prepared to watch a video of how to fold fitted sheets. Don't do it, people - maddness will follow. Aaarrrrgggggggg. I warned you, I warned you.
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