Friday, June 09, 2006

Friday is showing day.

My daughter Claire has taken the book into school this morning for a 'show and tell'. She's been wanting to do it for a while now but we keep forgetting.

Of course, it's not really suitable for eight-year-olds. In fact, it's not at all suitable for eight-year-olds. I hope the teacher doesn't decide to read them a passage. Especially not something from the Sloggi Midi Briefs chapter.

But I am extremely touched by the fact that my daughter is so proud of something I have done that she wants to show it to her class.

Panic over.

I had a moment of extreme panic just now, after seeing the kids off for school. I came back in to put the coffee on and start a morning of writing. Imagine my horror when... I could find no coffee in the fridge.

I searched frantically through the shelves, pulling out the pots of yoghurt, scrag ends of cheese and fragments of Easter eggs (hope that's from this year, not last), oh and the packets of filled pasta. So much bloody filled pasta in our fridge. We buy it as an emergency food. But keep forgetting we already have some. So our store of filled pasta increases every week, as we never have the necessary emergency that requires us to actually eat it.

I knew there had to be some coffee in there. I'm the only one who drinks the stuff (Rachel claims she has an allergy to it, but I doubt this; I don't see how anyone could be allergic to coffee) and I knew I hadn't finished off the last pack. In fact, I had the feeling that there was a generous amount left in it. So where was it?

The more panicky I got, the more desperate my searching. It was only the thought that I might have to resort to instant that brought me back under control. That and some deep breathing.

I decided to conduct a systematic full fridge evacuation. The good stuff had to be in there somewhere.

It was at the back of shelf two. I can't describe the rush of relief and anticipated pleasure that I experienced. It's brewing now. In fact, I think I just heard the last gargle of the espresso pot. I may have to go now.

4 comments:

Debi said...

Your post induced empathetic panic in me - and I've already HAD my caffeine ...
When I got my deal, my sons asked lots of questions eg title, did it have pictures, was it a CHAPTER book?
I've inscribed copies for them even though they know they can't read them until they're at least 38 (number plucked at random...).
Hopefully they won't end up like the book in the story I once heard - possibly apocryphal - re the author who found his book outside a 2nd hand shop. He opened it and was sad to see it was a signed copy.
It got an awful lot worse when he read the inscription - To Mum and Dad with love!

Lucy McCarraher said...

That's nice about your daughter. I shall suggest the same thing to mine in due course. As I'm on the parent committee, I thought I'd do an evening talk/reading/signing at our village hall in aid of the school - entry fee to them, books sales to me. Good publicity through a flyer in the children's book bags... Is this horribly exploitative? Or the perfect win-win scenario?
re: coffee - I don't drink it, so when I do it makes me jittery and anxious. YOu'll see there's a capuccino on the cover of my book - to make sure that everyone knew my heroine, Mo, was NOT me, I made her a compulsive coffee drinker. I may pinch your no-coffee crisis for a scene in Kindred Spirits, which is also about Mo. Hope that's OK.
Lucy x

September said...

As I read, I thought, "NO Coffee???? Oh no!"

I love coffee in the morning. I love coffee in the noontime. I love coffee in the evening.....ok, I love coffee.

I enjoyed the story about your daughter taking the book to school. I take it that everything worked out? LOL

roger said...

Thanks debi, lucy and september. I've put a follow-up to the show and tell story now.

Oh and as I was taking the pot of coffee up to the loft where I do my work, I spilled some on the landing carpet. So I had to defer the moment of drinking while I rushed to get a damp cloth and try to mop it up. Of course, my eagle-eyed wife spotted the slight discolouration when she came home, so I didn't get away with it. Even worse, I lost a few precious drops of the good stuff.