The thing about Sunday that was most different from the other days was that they were allowed to evolve. They just happened, this usually pleased her as it did often mean some head space for writing. This Sunday had started at 5am with a certain little man getting up far too early, after a little coaxing though, he returned to his bed, as did she. When her daughter got up at 7 she was packed off to the lounge for TV babysitting whilst the parents snoozed, her brother joined her when he re-awoke … Bad parenting perhaps but there is a thin line between good parenting and keeping sane.
The thing about Sunday lunch is that it is greatly appreciated and actually quite easy to cook. You just bang it all in at the right time and ‘bingo’ it’s done, except perhaps the yorkshire puddings, she always found those a challenge. Today was a roast beef day though, so she thought she might give the yorkies another try, they would probably sink or explode or be soggy or like bricks… but she considered that trying was the part that mattered most.
So Sunday mooched on in it’s own special way, yes, there was laughter and shouting and TV and the odd game played. As a whole, as a family day. It was a good day.