After breakfast, DH, resplendent in trousers that would offend any washing machine, was busting a gut to get on with the day, but first, he had agreed to drop us in town.
I looked at DH and then took a second look.
"Your trousers are absolutely filthy!"
"They are the trousers I wear when I am doing odd jobs. I am hoping to get over the allotment later. Anyway, they are almost as clean as last time they came out of the machine!" he declares.
I look again, and really doubt this, but I was not going to pick a fight over laundry.
"When will you be ready to go?"
"Oh, I accidentally put the washing on..."
"And I suppose it is going to be another half an hour..."
"23 minutes"
During the next ten minutes, DH's impatience almost causes him to ignite.
Unable to bear the tension of waiting for the moment of combustion, I suggest that I leave the laundry to his tender ministrations and that we depart.
In town the KHT and I visit the poke stops around Church Green,tour the charity shops
and visit various other establishments,
namely The Body shop, where the KHT lusts after toiletries and Smiths, where I swoon over stationary.
Our journeys briefly diverge,
as she chooses Waterstones over TKMaxx,
before we move on the Debenhams for lunch.
There are no egg sandwiches,
so she opts for Mac and Cheese - as far as I am aware this is a new dish she has added to her repertoire.
I had chosen a baked potato,
but noting that her choice also comes with chips,
I realise that I will be eating those,
and cancel my order.
At the cinema, the assistant doesn't ask us where we want to sit, just hands us our tickets. When we enter Screen 3, I understand why, as we are the only people who want to see Nativity Rocks on a Friday lunchtime.As I anticipated the KHT loved it, Christmas, loud music and familiar songs. As far as she was concerned it was perfect. I appreciated the shots of Coventry Cathedrals, though I am not sure that she remembered visiting there, as it was a while ago.
Verdict - there were some parts that raised concerns re safeguarding, and I was a bit confused about why the Shropshire woman spoke with such a strong Welsh accent.
Conclusion - They all lived happily ever after.
As it was still light the KHT and I walked home, observing a dark cloud which stayed resolutely to the west and only deposited a few drops once we were in our road and almost home.
I walked into the kitchen, and immediately noticed the empty laundry basket abandoned in the utility. Surprisingly, the machine looked empty.
"Where's the washing?" I asked hesitantly. Surely he hadn't just carried it upstairs in his arms?
"On the line!"
"It's raining."
"No it's not!" DH looks outside, "Well, it wasn't a moment ago. Why are you taking your coat off if the washing needs rescuing?"
"Because I have just walked home from town and I am rather warm."
I go and retrieve the washing from the rain, which is now falling quite heavily. Every sock has been hung up separately. Normally they go on sock holders, which move from line (weather permitting) to airer to airing cupboard. I empty the dry washing from the airing cupboard, and put the washing retrieved from the line, in its place.
"How was the washing?" enquires DH proudly.
"Surprisingly dry. I need a coffee."
"Just add water. It was waiting for you before you disappeared upstairs.
"The laundry needed sorting."
The shed roof is fixed." he announces with great satisfaction, "AND I put my trousers in the wash!"
I managed to contain my deep joy, but only just, consoling myself with the thought that at least I didn't have to mend the shed roof...
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