I could tell you that everything is running swimmingly at the moment. But I’d be lying to you.
I could tell you that beyond the odd hiccup or two, all is well in my world.
But I’d be leading you straight up, a very wonky, garden path.
I could tell you that my son’s voice is not breaking. That my house is bright, clean and sparkly. That my washroom does not have the nickname ‘The Alps’. I could even say that I didn’t just get lost trying to find the hall where my daughter is doing her ballet rehearsal for her show tomorrow night.
But I’d be telling porkies.
Instead, it would be truthful to say, that it was the very same hall she did a different show in last year. The very same hall I’ve walked past with the dog. The one that’s quite big and has a car park and is, once found, relatively easy to find.
I can also tell you that I had to ask a postman for directions and that he had no clue either. But to be fair, the post-people have only just returned after a lengthy strike. And it could well be that they hired some new post-people to catch up with the enormous mountain of mail that the people at the post office were talking about this morning. I was there. Picking up a parcel. Not sending anything. I’m still too afraid to. I have images in my head of my delayed birthday presents and my postponed get well soon cards being distinctly smaller and more loseable than a needle in a haystack.
I am particularly perturbed by the loseable image now. Seeing that the postman I met didn’t seem to know his dance halls.
I could tell you my bathroom scales are broken. After all, it’s what I told my husband until I suddenly discovered I could no longer fit in pretty much any of my summer clothes. Without forcing them and hearing tiny ripping sounds, that is. At first, I assumed the washing machine must be on the blink as there seemed to have been some shrinkage.
I could tell you that I didn’t just console myself with ice cream. And that I am not presently eyeing up a Wholenut.
Sorry, that I have not just eaten the said Wholenut.
But I’d be bare-faced lying.