Sometimes things get better, sometimes worse. On Tuesday we had an attempted break-in. Super Spouse arrived home just as the burglar alarm went off. Thumping sounds round the back of the house confirmed his suspicions. He tore through the house to see a man smashing our dining-room window with our garden table. He'd tried the kitchen window already unsuccessfully, had smashed the outer layer of the double-glazing in the dining room but was having difficulty with the inner pane - the one which would have got him INTO the house. Hubby yelled, the cretin shrugged and mouthed "Sorry" and loped off into - well, God knows where. He disappeared up the street and by the time the Police came, he was no-where to be seen.
So Super Spouse had the insurance people to ring, the double-glazing firm to call-out, and so on - God, what a nightmare. Yes, we were very lucky - I do see that. Super Spouse had two things to do on the way home from the school run. What a good thing he decided only to run the first errand, or he'd have arrived home to a burgled house. And only an hour earlier, I had looked at a new bank card that I'd left on the table, then decided not to leave it there but to take it to work with me. It could so, so easily have ended differently.
We feel a lot less secure now. The knowledge that it was so nearly a catastrophe ...
Yesterday I played the piano at a Boys' Brigade closing ceremony. It was an impressive evening - I just hadn't realised it would take THREE WHOLE HOURS. Super Spouse simply couldn't believe I had been at church all that time. I HADN'T left my phone on - for it to have rung would have been sheer bad manners - and I didn't want to sidle outside to use it. (I was conspicuously at the front of the hall.) I got home to find myself well and truly in the doghouse. Clearly a reckless and irresponsible totally un-supermum. You'd have thought I had been with another man, not a whole hall-full of adolescent boys in blue uniforms!