waiting around for the pianist

Mouse has piano lessons on Monday – they last for approximately forty minutes (unless he hasn’t practised enough, when she kicks him out sharpish) and they take place about fifteen minutes drive away from the house, which makes it really not worth my while to drive home and back again, because that is all I would be doing apart from wasting fuel.

I try and do something useful with my time – a bit of shopping (the only place open is Tescos mind you) or emptying the empties into the bottle-bank, and I find myself stretching out these small chores, so that tonight with three items in my basket I stood in the normal shopping checkout rather than use the quick basket one… Which is all totally ridiculous really, but better than sitting outside the piano teacher’s house in the dark and cold in a car whose interior light doesn’t work so I can’t even read…

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