Extraordinary Solutions for Ordinary Life This is my apology for being a rubbish daughter, friend, sister,wife. niece, aunty and colleague.
I’m sorry mum for not ringing you this weekend, I wanted nothing more, than a long luxurious chat on the phone, I miss you and our calls.
I did pick up the phone to call, not just once but many times and as it languished in my hand, time just passed me by.
As I dialled the digits of your number, I heard a sweet voice plead, can you come and look at my shoes, I think they’re jealous of my knees.
The second time I dialled 3 digits, only to be stopped, by a sea of ants beneath my bum and a swarm of toddler irate wasps.
The third time I went searching, for where I’d left the phone, while on the hunt I got distracted by 3 kids, 2 pigs, 1 dog and bone
The fourth time I escaped and locked the bathroom door, A HA! They couldn’t get me here, I dialled your phone once more,
To be accosted by a man, who calls himself sir Paul, I’d woken him from a pleasant dream, I should really check before I call.
The last time, when I tried again, the phone was out of charge, in my haste to stop a duck escape, I’d left it on the grass outside
I haven’t given up though, as I’m trying really hard, to find that secret second, where a conversation can be had.
I think it’s best you visit me, pack up your bags and come, see why it’s so damn difficult, to get me on the phone.
I’m sorry too, to friends, who’ve texted recently. I’ve read the texts, they made me smile and then life caught up with me.
I put your texts aside to be answered when I’d time. Then when I did get round to it, my signal up and died.
I started with an email, to explain my flakiness, it still sits there, half complete, and is no where near being finished.
I thought about a call, and reached towards the phone, I’d like nothing better, than a chin-wag and a moan.
The jam encrusted handset doesn’t marry well with you, as it’s there to bring me work stress, not giggles and laughs too
The texts they sit abandoned, unable to deliver, the email lies unfinished, perhaps I’ll reconsider.
My brother, I am sorry, for being a rubbish aunt, for being an errant sister, for being a total prat.
I see the boys are growing, like your old school friends do and I make half hearted gestures, to reconnect with you,
I could try harder, this I know but it seems so difficult. With three kids, more ducks, a dog, two pigs, my time seems mythical.
I want to send you pictures, updates of your family, real heartfelt chats and messages instead of perceived apathy.
Step inside the door to Mercer world, and see why it’s so tough , to communicate with anyone that doesn’t sleep under our roof.
At first you’ll meet Banana, the dog that needs attention. The fact he doesn’t get enough, is a clear bone of contention.
You’ll spot the eggs in plastic boxes, ready to be hatched. Some cheeping, twerping ducklings, wearing their “just born” badge.
You’ll meet the children, three to tween, who chatter incessantly. As one will stop to ponder words, the others fill in happily.
These will become your shadows, as you move around the house. Picking clothes up as you go before connecting with my spouse.
My husband is a ghost almost as we pass like fleeting ships, as one of us fields endless questions, the other sweeps up shit.
We’ve tried to talk, don’t get us wrong, and sometimes it seems doable, our record is two sentences before its un-pursuable,
Mummy will you look at this, dad I need your glue gun, Mummy mummy look at me, I’ve stuck my elbow to my bum,
Daddy daddy, I need food, mummy I’m so thirsty, daddy daddy, look at this, I can count to thirty
Mummy if you must go wee, leave the door wide open, how dare you think of private time, when I have words unspoken.
Daddy don’t you dare, put the football on TV, I’ll hide the batteries of the remote, and we’ll watch Sheriff Cally
Mummy please stop talking in that boring adult voice, I need entertaining, no, you haven’t got a choice
I’ll take all my devices and put them on at once, let’s see how you ignore me, when I say I’ve met a nonce
I had sex ed today, I know just where to look, I know it’s your worst nightmare but everyone has Facebook.
You haven’t time to monitor? Is that some kind of joke. You’re standing there just chatting to a tired looking bloke.
Percy is a toddler, who’s adorable and cute, impossible to ignore for long, she’s anything but mute
Poppy is a ten year old, too old for her years, she knows of sex, of boys and boobs and brings grown men to tears.
Mitchell is autistic, so everything’s exact, there are no grey areas, everything’s a fact,
It’s not five to three, it’s clearly two minutes to, can’t you read the time, why can’t you tell the truth?
Adorable in equal measure, you’ll want to spend some time but please be careful, these are secret suckers of your mind!
I’ll lead you further in, to where my office lies, if you can make it to the door, I’ll give you a big prize
The commute to work is fraught with stress, as many children try, to stop me getting in that room, to barricade my desk.
Mummy don’t you go to work, I need you by my side and if you could bring a hello kitty pram, I’ll make you my best ally
You’re always working mum, can’t you stop and play with me? And can I have a tenner? For a new game on the wii?
We’ll close the door behind us friends as we make it to the office, for one sweet second we’ll pretend our life is without stress.
Then the phone starts ringing and the PC whirs to life, the email stares back in bold and people wait on Skype.
The day begins and carries on with flurries of activity, all in the vain hope that we’re displaying productivity.
You’ll see the ghost you met before as he tries to bring me coffee, a toddler screaming in his ear as she just wants her mummy.
I’m sorry but you must stay here until the work is done, if you try to leave, you’ll be the victim of a glue gun.
Some days work takes eight hours, others take eleven, today we’ll clock off early, to make the most of Devon
I kid myself the work life balance is absolute child’s play, I’ll even tell my Facebook friends, how well I’ve done today,
Yes let’s leave the hassles out, they don’t need to know, about the bills that sit unopened, the w***ers on the phone.
Now let’s go cook the dinner, while fielding endless questions, rubbing temples as we cook, to try to relieve tension
We’ll lay their dinners down, and have five minutes peace as they tuck in quite satisfied, leaving us at ease
That is until they spot us, trying to converse, they’ll shout that they’re not hungry and send peace into reverse
So we’ll sign the planners, read the books, deliver good advice, we’ll wash the clothes and wash their hair and check through for head lice
We’ll bring them pudding, make them eat and ask if all is well. We’ll worry ourselves sick, when they refuse to tell.
They will chatter about anything but when we ask that question, what was your day like today? they’ll baulk at the suggestion
How dare we turn the tables and demand much more than “fine”, don’t we know they’re in control, why don’t WE toe the line?
We’ll tuck them up in bed, after following the rule book, each has had enough attention, we’re almost doing good.
Then ghosts will meet somewhere upstairs, usually in the hall, we’ll start a conversation sat against the wall
We could quite simply chat all night but there’s so much left to do, there’s animals and uniforms and our own stuff to sort too.
We’ve also got to eat and that takes precious minutes, why won’t that clock slow down, we’re speeding past the limit.
Bathed and fed we get in bed, and relax in our new room, painted red for romance, we get into the mood,
Then we spot the time, or noise comes from the landing, tonight we hope it’s just, a small misunderstanding
Situation critical, we set out to diffuse, each assigned a child, while one snoozes through
And then the youngest wakes, what is all of this noise? I refuse to go to sleep until you tuck in ALL my toys.
We’ll climb back into bed, and cuddle up once more, in just a few short breaths, one begins to snore.
We’ll try again tomorrow night, the optimism shouts, we must have sex at some point, we can’t live without!
A restless leg, a grunted snore and we are up once more, as the sleep we craved is interspersed with habits I abhor
But soon it’s morning friend, see that scenery, look out the bedroom window and come follow me.
We’ll start off in the bathroom as we try to down the coffee, before the onslaught of the voices, turn our brain to toffee.
We’ll somehow get them out to school and step towards the office, but don’t forget there’s friends to call before they cut their losses.
But look there’s Mike he needs a chat, Shawn wants some attention. A blog is needed right this minute, for customer retention.
Kate’s just announced her pregnancy, get out, report, it’s news. The staff are taking time off work, the ice bucket challenge rules
And what about this product, have you tried it yet? We’re looking for our mention, quick get it, write it, FETCH
My advertising’s lacklustre it really needs to dazzle, my competitors have left me, up creek without a paddle.
You must read this PR, and publish it on site, and no we’re not concerned, that what we’ve wrote is shite.
I need to talk to you, why won’t you take my call, you have your phone on silent? Gosh you’ve got some balls.
You’re overdue a meeting, and about that award, you didn’t speak to the judge, so it’s no longer yours.
I need some SEO, I want to rank right now, I only have a thousand pounds, why can’t you do it for nowt?
Will you answer my email? I sent it seconds ago, silence is unprofessional, you’ve still a long way to go.
I need amendments on this copy, I need it yesterday. There’s a typo two lines down and my PA’s away
You want me to cough up? What, I have to pay? If you’d have told me earlier I’d have thought of a complaint.
You’re invited to a lunch with special guest TV stars, don’t you think of saying no, don’t you know who they are?
My customers aren’t clicking, my conversion rate is low? Did I follow your advice, oh, good gracious, no?
Why would I trust the word, of a lowly copywriter, when all you want to do, is make my site rank higher?
SEO you say, yes stuff it with some keywords, unfortunately client, that’s no longer how it works
I just want it cheap as chips, I don’t care of the quality, stack em high and reel em in as long as its not pricey
“Here’s your coffee dearest, I do love you today, do you think tonight, I could have my wicked way?”
“Consult my on-line diary dear, I’ve meetings stacked til ten, if I’m still standing at that time, you can take me then.”
“Oh how romantic, thank you, I really am not worthy, just let know, of a window when your fanny will be empty”
“I’m sorry dear I truly am but can’t you see I’m busy, for every second that I work, my pussy turns more grisly”
I curse myself for treating, my ghost just like a client, the devil that wears H and M, must not show her compliance.
Between the 9 and 5, I need the biggest balls, but I promise you my darling, I’ll be softer when nightfalls
It’s hard to keep it up, these two personalities, it’s hard to keep it up, when you have bigger balls than me!
But keep it up I must, to take care of the business, that’s OK my darling, my fingers are quite nimbus
Tonight I promise, will be ours, and loving me will reign, It’s quite alright, darling dear, I’ve pleased myself again.
So you see, my lovely friend, when all is said and done, it really isn’t easy to pick up that damn phone!
