Controversial opinion, but I hate Saturdays. At least during cricket season. Everything seems to land on the this day. The big two have gymnastics and swimming. This week it’s the school fair and the preschool open day. There always seem to be parties to attend or activities to go to, which is all well and good, except when you’re solo parenting and you just simply, Can’t. Be. Arsed.
Especially when you know your other half is gleefully frolicking around a field, playing catch with his mates . For the cricket lovers amongst you (anyone?), in a previous life (before kids), the Spouse used to play for Leicestershire & Derbyshire. I found him on Wikipedia after our first date and that’s the only reason he got a second ♀️ (and a small contraceptive mishap is why he got any after that ). But his “ex pro” status means that little local clubs pay him to toss a ball around for them at weekends. So he calls it “work”. So apparently that means I’m not allowed to complain about it being THE WORST SPORT EVER ♀️. But it is. So there you go. Anyway, I digress. Saturdays are hard work for me. Sundays are my weekend and I live for them . And this is a picture of Daisy that has nothing to do with anything, but I needed something to share so I could have a wee Saturday morning whinge fest . Have a good one anyway, except you, cricket widows, yours probably sucks as much as mine does .