Posted by It’s the sequel that nobody asked for. The OddDaughter is back at nursery and pretty much back to normal. However, the lurgy has now taken Mrs OddFather host. As I speak she has just taken a bite of her toast and rushed straight to the bathroom to let it out again. Not ideal when you’re pregnant.
Not the best planned week off. Started off with the OddDaughter ill, and has ended with Mrs OddFather ill. So much for a mental health week. And I don’t want to say it out loud… but I’m feeling something in my throat which is not filling me with confidence that I’m going to survive this thing. I need to take control of matters.
I still managed to go for a run this morning. I’m still slow. But it’s not about speed. It’s about getting out to earn my free cinema ticket live a healthy lifestyle. On my return I decided to get ahead of the thing by relaxing. Which involved having my first bath in years (I’m a shower guy). A bit of stress-free Radox to truly unwind.
And it worked.
For 5 minutes.
Until I got news that rocked the world of many people I know. News that has put many people on edge. News that will impact the lives of so many people in this country – if not the world. The news…
Jurgen Klopp has decided to leave Liverpool at the end of the season.
Bath ruined.
That gif is not far from being in the image of Klopp himself. Don’t get me wrong – as an Arsenal fan – it’s good news to me. But many friends of mine, including the OddFella, are feeling shattered right now.
So, I spent the rest of the bath texting various people.
To be fair, I forgot just how hot baths get. I was stupid enough to commit too quickly and went in two footed. And then I stood paralysed, rooted to the spot, in agony for what seemed like eternity before I was able to switch the water to cold. Then came a game of tactics to see when is best to lower myself and burn my nether regions. Good job Mrs OddFather and I have agreed not to have anymore kids after the one due.
I think I need to experiment a bit around what is the right temperature. I was actually keen to get out the bath as I just felt too hot. And not Diet Coke hot. If you know, you know.
By the time I was out and ready, my head was already pounding. The lurgy may be on its way to me. I swear when I was younger I avoided getting ill because the grease from all the kebabs I had formed a protective layer around my throat, and the whisky I drank killed any bacteria that was present. Perhaps it’s time to go back to those days and just get flat out drunk, smelling of kebabs.
Now that’s Diet Coke hot.
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