The day of The Big Purple One..
Words from a Bird. Day 4.
Having many of our children at home over Christmas always brings new discoveries, some of which I have historically wished had remained undiscovered. However, this year, it was Netflix. Now, for the husband, this was an absolute revelation. NO ADVERTS! So, 17 episodes of Dexter later, life at number 35 has come to a complete standstill. The lounge curtains remain unopened all day, the dog is unfed (along with the remaining child in the house who has driven off foraging for food around the fleshpots of Wallingford). The husband seems to have lost all use of his legs, and has paused Dexter on a couple of occasions to suggest a takeaway, oh and one of those snuggle blankets advertised in the Mail on Sunday's supplement. He is well and truly hooked and may need to be prised off the sofa with the promise of the last two 'Big Purple Ones' from the Quality Street tub.
As the children flee the constraints of family life once more, leaving the youngest to bear the brunt of room tidying and dishwasher emptying, I mourn the noise of the last two weeks. Not to worry, I now have the husband shouting out "Season 7! Quick!" and "Who's eaten the last of the 'Big Purple Ones?" to drown out the silence. I also miss the activity and 'busyness' that the children bring into the house. Looking at the husband as he starts Season 8, remote control in one hand and a fistful of purple wrappers in the other, he may not be able to fill that particular gap so easily......
Having many of our children at home over Christmas always brings new discoveries, some of which I have historically wished had remained undiscovered. However, this year, it was Netflix. Now, for the husband, this was an absolute revelation. NO ADVERTS! So, 17 episodes of Dexter later, life at number 35 has come to a complete standstill. The lounge curtains remain unopened all day, the dog is unfed (along with the remaining child in the house who has driven off foraging for food around the fleshpots of Wallingford). The husband seems to have lost all use of his legs, and has paused Dexter on a couple of occasions to suggest a takeaway, oh and one of those snuggle blankets advertised in the Mail on Sunday's supplement. He is well and truly hooked and may need to be prised off the sofa with the promise of the last two 'Big Purple Ones' from the Quality Street tub.
As the children flee the constraints of family life once more, leaving the youngest to bear the brunt of room tidying and dishwasher emptying, I mourn the noise of the last two weeks. Not to worry, I now have the husband shouting out "Season 7! Quick!" and "Who's eaten the last of the 'Big Purple Ones?" to drown out the silence. I also miss the activity and 'busyness' that the children bring into the house. Looking at the husband as he starts Season 8, remote control in one hand and a fistful of purple wrappers in the other, he may not be able to fill that particular gap so easily......
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