Ah, Saturday morning chaos.
My wife’s down the shop from early and I’ve got to be out the house and get the child to cycling practice—without forgetting anything—by 10am.
And for some reason we always seem to let various chores slide towards the end of the week, so there’s a pile of stuff to do… in very little time.
Honestly? It’s easy to get stressed, especially if my 10yo flatmate is in the sort of mood seemingly designed to throw spanners in the works.
So anyway, I’m moving between the rooms of the house, the various parts of the kitchen, the garage and the van, up and down the stairs inside and the steps outside, quickly and purposefully - essential if we’re to arrive at our destination in the next village, in the allotted time.
But then I notice the feeling of urgency.
Ah, now that’s different.