Uncooperative White Good

You know that feeling you get when someone is watching you? Even when you are asleep?

It was about 6.45am yesterday and I was having a vivid dream about my old best friend who unceremoniously broke up with me 18 years ago without any reason or circumstance. In this dream, someone was watching me...

It was enough to rouse me out of my subconscious adventures. I opened my eyes to find Jack's face hovering about 10 centimetres above my face.

"It's my birthday!" He screamed.

Less than ideal relaxing conditions to start the day with, but his enthusiasm was infectious.

The birthday boy wanted chocolate milk and pancakes for breakfast, and because naturally I had none of those things in the house, we jumped in the car and headed to the IGA. On arrival, I realised my wallet was at home at the kitchen bench.

20 minutes later I was making pancakes while the kids got dressed. I noticed that their uniforms were filthy. I asked them to give me their shirts so I could throw them through the wash. Because we had time.

I paused the mornings activities to watch my friend Beverley teach the nation how to fold a fitted sheet on national television. I was annoyed at Karl for talking over the top of her. She showed fantastic restraint at not smacking him over the head with that pink sheet.

It also proved to me that the world is going quite mad, just the way I like it!

The morning ticked along quickly. It was time to leave for school but the bloody new washer dryer was taking it's sweet time. Once it had finished it's cycle, like my good self, it stops communicating and has a sulk.

It was not letting me open the door.

Minutes ticked by and I stopped panicking. "Oh fuck it. we are going to be late" I thought to myself. I watched Jack do a magic show and listened to Harry read until the washer dryer beeped, indicating to me that it had stopped being a dick and was ready to release the uniforms so they could get trashed again.

We walked into school. Jack was letting off subtle hints that it was his birthday by wearing a massive, flashing badge indicating to passers by, that indeed it was.

The office lady was standing there at the front desk with a pen in her hand. She filled out the late form, and asked me why we were late. You actually had to write a reason! How intrusive.

I told her that we were late because the washer dryer had chucked a hissy fit and I mis-timed how long it would take to wash the shirts.

She handed me the pen, and I wrote down the reason for being late.

UNCOOPERATIVE WHITE GOOD

Yep, I will just about blame anyone else on my shortcomings.