Mortified

There was a knock on the door and an older gentleman was standing there, flinching a little at my, 'who the heck are you?' expression. I had finally got little bear sitting quietly watching Ben 10 dvd (which I really regret buying, but he needed to be slowed down) and I was hoping to actually do some washing up.

He is a friend of darling father, who hadn't seen him for a few weeks, so he was calling to ask after darling father's health.

I invited him in. The living room looked like nothing on earth - crumbs all over the floor, toys scattered, Dr Who cards surrounding a ground zero of an empty box, things piled up, stacked, dropped, shoved to one side, and dear heaven the place needed dusting. Actually it needs stripping back to the plaster and starting again. I couldn't even ask him to sit in darling father's chair. Another spring went last night and it is not safe for the unwary to sit in.

Added to that, darling father was still in bed, still tired and not really up to visitors. For one brief moment he looked as appalled as I felt, he was in no fit state. But this poor man had braved me, a long walk and an unknown destination to ask after darling father, so darling father dragged himself into some clothes, and I made him a cup of tea and then dragged little bear to play on the computer quietly - or else!

Little bear should be back at school next week. I MUST do something then! Also, Ben 10 is truly awful.