but I am fed up of going on about it
.
so I'm not going to - apart from to say that if the bus you get on has a Polish driver, who judging by his accent has only just arrived in the country - but probably has a Master's degree in astro-physics and probably shouldn't be driving buses for a living (years ago, we had a Bosnian babysitter, who had been a Barrister) - and you ask if the bus is 'going up "Specific" Hill?' and he says 'Yes.' and you double check by asking 'past "Specific" Hospital?' and he nods very affirmatively, it might just turn out that his bus goes up a different hill and past a different hospital. . . which turns out to be more than half-an-hour's walk away from your actual destination, and it happens that you are wearing shoes with no socks, so you get blisters on the foot that had the skin/blood disease that almost killed you three years ago, and every step hurts, and then you're late for your appointment with your new Head Doctor - but only five minutes, because you always set off with far more time to spare than necessary, in case some disaster strikes (like the Polish bus driver not knowing where the f*ck his bus goes in relation to your chosen destination) (despite the fact the bus' destination was clearly marked "Specific" on the front, next to the number), and even tho you were only five minutes late and had actually phoned ahead to say you were going to be five minutes late, the new Head Doctor keeps you waiting in the waiting room - full of other "Care in the Community" patients suffering one of the many varieties of mental health disorder - for yet another twenty-five. . . I'll skip the next bit. . . but will add that later on your children spend a total of one-and-a-half hours with you on The Teen's latest birthday - just enough time to demolish the "Smurfs meet Jurrasic Park" cake you assembled to bring a begrudging smile to The Teen's face (and even to Mini-Teen's, altho she was jealous cos XCH organised the most part of her birthday when they were on their hols and she didn't get a cake) (and even Middle One smiled, cos he loves The Teen and MO quite likes cake too) (but he doesn't like Haribo Smurfs) (which only left more for The Teen and M-T to argue over) and the pizzas and ice-cream, and play a couple of games on one of the consoles that XCH's left here, whilst arguing about whether to listen to M-T's choice of music (Abba) or The Teen's (Iron Maiden) (MO never gets to choose the music) - and then they go back "home" again. . . and I'll skip the next bit too. . .
.
.
. . .cos I said I wasn't going to go on about it (ho hum)
.I hope the sun shines for you,
and you, and YOU!!,
(and even the person at the back lurking)
.and you, and YOU!!,
(and even the person at the back lurking)
I'm nice like that. . .
. . .sometimes
. . .sometimes
