Hey hey, I'm the king of all time, hey hey, nothing is impossible, in my all powerful mind!
In moments of extreme stress I find bursting into song is the best method to cope. And this song works.
Why, you ask, do I need to burst into song today?
Last night my smallest boy didn't sleep. He wandered from room to room, demanding cuddles, and being too hot, and awake.
When we got up this morning I carried him downstairs (because he is made of the world's heaviest velcro) and let the dog out (who had not done a poo in his cage, which was nice) and as we stumbled through to the kitchen so I could open the back door and let a VERY EXCITED puppy out into the garden to do his business, Midget Gem burped out a massive vomit, all over me, himself, and the very excited puppy.
Very excited puppy started trying to eat the sick, I started trying to one handedly shove him through the half open door without standing in sick, and hug the toddler covered in vomit. Then I stripped him, stripped, mopped, cuddled some more, handed a now clean toddler to his Dad and went outside to wash the dog off, all before even a SNIFF of coffee.
Midget Gem insisted on breakfast, then threw weetabix up on me and himself, then went back to sleep in a sweaty heap on my knee. Daddytwo took Jellybean to school (he thought it was hilarious, by the way) and I managed to peel small child off me so I could try and clean the kitchen.
He woke, shouted, threw up some more, sat on me for a few hours, then it was lunchtime and pick up from pre-school for the big one ready to quickly scoff some lunch and go to visit some more schools ready for the big application deadline (another whole blog post, yet to be published!).
As we were driving through a local village I had to pull out past a line of parked cars - this, if you live in a rural area, is quite common - people wait at the end for a few cars to come through, then someone stops and lets people coming the other way through. I had three cars coming through behind me and we were driving past a line of 12 parked cars (which make it a single lane of usuable road) and a car was coming towards me and, rather than stopping, just kept going at the same speed as he'd approached.
I slammed on my breaks and tucked in as much as I could but there just wasn't enough room - two cars from the end of the parked row he clipped my car, bruising the front and smashing his own wing mirror entirely.
I pulled in and he came and parked behind me, rolled down his window as I got out to walk over, and very loudly told me all the ways that it was my fault.
So, being the lovely grown up that I am, rather than screeching back at him I apologised. I said I had anticipated he would stop, and hadn't seen anywhere to pull in and let him pass, but accept that it was likely to be my fault and offered to give him the money for a new wing mirror. Being nice worked, because he admitted it was his fault and that he just didn't want to wait the few minutes it would take to let other cars go by.
I now have a car that needs a little TLC, shaky nerves, a temper that could ignite you, and a strong urge to sing the Levellers. That's ok, yes?