I started Couch to 5km on Thursday night. Sneaking out without George was like a military operation and he was NOT happy with me for leaving him. I promised the next time I went for a run he could come with me. He spent most of the morning today demanding that we go for a run, so after a LOT of whinging and him losing his shit with everybody, we decided all four of us would go for a run. We set off in the fields at the back of our house and at first it was quite enjoyable. George thought it was hilarious that we were all running and it put a smile on my face after a stressful morning with him. Ten minutes after we set off however, he decided that running wasn’t for him and began screaming “MUM! COME BACK! STOP RUNNING!” every time I jogged, followed by bursts of “I WILL NEVER GO RUNNING AGAIN” and “I HATE RUNNING.”
I feel you pal. Mummy isn’t a massive fan either but I’ve discovered a love of cake during isolation and I don’t want to be a total blimp by the time it’s all over. I treated myself to a slice of the double chocolate loaf I baked this morning when we got home, obviously.
George has seen me writing my draft of this diary in Word over the past week or so (with the swear words replaced with XXX) and he likes to read it over my shoulder. After my run (and cake) I went upstairs for a bath. Within two minutes of me getting in, as usual, he was standing at the side of the bath stripping off. He sat down in the water and I immediately noticed a familiar look of concentration on his face which meant only one thing….
“George, are you weeing in my bath? Don’t do that it’s disgusting!”
He smirked and replied “are you going to type that in Word?”
Yes I am pal. Yes I am.
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