Easter holidays, time of contemplation, renewal, consumptive chocolate fest and, if lucky, the first throes of summer prompting the discarding of winter garb.   Yes, all of those, and as a little aside, ‘flu en masse - bugger. 

The eldest, (age 46), was the first to succumb having caught it from a friend in Guildford.  One would think they have a better class of  'bug' in Surrey, but no. Passed on to me some five weeks ago now. Star I awoke hot and sweaty on the first day of the holidays, soldiered on manfully through the first week, recovered, and passed it on to Star II who still resembles a boiled sweet, red and slightly sticky.  Calpol for breakfast, dinner and tea poor love.  Now I have to say, despite acknowledgement of 'man ‘flu', the husband has been really ill. I suggested a trip to the quack but he was having none of it. Therein lies the difference.

After three weeks of feeling like death aka  'I'm fine', clearly the logical thing to do was to take my golf-ball sized glands to the doc’s and get sorted.  Result?  Given enough pills to kill a horse and get on!  Then, due to all the coughing, bugger the disc in my back - one call to friendly doc and have pain killers and anti-inflams.  A heady mix when accompanied with Chablis: life takes on an altogether rosier hue.  Couldn't drive, sit or sleep.  But could stand to work, oh lucky me, so with the T.E.N.S machine on 'stun an elephant ' mode continued on.  Lovely friends rallied distributing Stars I & II across Hampshire for school and swimming et al, and brought flowers - thanks.

But these events have brought into sharp relief the stark, but yes rather obvious revelation, that when the 'woman of the house', (at this moment feeling like the 'old, (very old), retainer' or maybe Miss Ping Pong Loo  the handy Phillipino - although I believe de rigueur amongst HM is someone from the Ukraine, anyway), breaks down, the whole thing goes to pot.  It's only when you can't bend down that you realize just how much picking up you do. By the time I'm 50 I will either have returned to the foetal position or will resemble the sister of the well known physically challenged Parisian bell tower inhabitant.  By week two one could sense slight irritation in the husband as he helped me on with my socks.  Sympathy?  Naa not me, anyway the husband reliably informs me that it's to be found between 'shit' and 'syphilis' in the dictionary, as is 'stoic'.

It's only a flesh wound, I've had worse.  Then, as is the way with bug induced pill-popping, a mild depression sets in.  I considered at some length that if I were to snuff it I would be replaced by a nubile blonde within a fortnight. The husband would be nestled in to her ample cleavage and Stars I & II would be calling her 'mummy'.  She, hopefully, wouldn't be that bright, (a blonde with a PhD - the final insult), but she would be more canny, she would claim she didn't know which end of the hoover sucked and of course, husband would leap into action. 

Blondie would be seriously 'high maintenance', the ultimate 'yummy mummy', she would have to have a cleaner as the combination of her pert large breasts on her slight size 10 frame would render bending positively dangerous.  She wouldn't understand any of 'that financial stuff' - one bat of the eye lashes would turn the husband into Alan Sugar overnight!  And then in the bedroom she would perform chapters of the Kama Sutra off pat - let joy be unconfined!!!!  Homework would be effortless and always accompanied by piles of chocolate brownies resulting in Stars I & II entering Oxbridge 10 years early. In short Blondie is a trophy wife all shiny and new, and this HM is more the darts trophy.....bugger.

These thoughts prevail in my existence at present, leaving me to question the point of it all: best years of my life appear to be over, look like my children's grandmother etc, etc....clearly more 'fine' than I had realized .... bugger.  Like I said, Easter is a time of contemplation, therefore conclude that marriage and children are life's greatest investments, a very long term investment. Everyone knows that long investments have peaks and troughs, are subject to market fluctuations and even prey to aggressive takeover bids.

Despite an ironic sense of humour this market place is currently in 'bust', shares at an all time low, in need of some serious investment ....... bugger.