Wednesday, 23 November 2011

The Aliens are Coming.......

A strange experience the other night. H has been unwell since Sunday.  Horrible cough, high temperature and sore head. Took the decision to keep him off school on Monday as he looked pale and feverish. Settled him on the couch for the day, fed him paracetamol and let him rest. All quiet on the western front.  That was until two in the morning. I woke to hear strange mumblings and got up, in zombified state, to investigate. It didn't take long to wake up. He was wandering about on top of his cabin bed like a wild child, wet with sweat, hair standing on end and eyes like bullets. Slightly disconcerting. I tried to get him to sit down as he ranted about 'sleeping in your bed Mum'. H never wants to sleep in our bed (thankfully) but was having none of it. He then started to point in terror at his pyjama case and shrieked ' I need to sleep in your bed because of that!' When I asked him what was wrong he freaked out wailing, 'It's that flying saucer, it's coming for me!' Oh dear. Just a tad disturbing. It made me think of that scene in Close Encounters when the wee boy is abducted. I stood waiting for his electronic toys to start wandering about the bedroom and bright lights to appear. Nothing....  Stuck him in the bed and accepted the fact I was unlikely to have a comfortable night.......

The passports finally arrived today and fortunately due to the placement of the hologram I do not look too horrific. Congratulating myself that I might just make in through immigration I switched on the telly to see that Thomas Cook is in a dodgy way with debts in excess of £900 million. Heck. Makes the mortgage seem manageable. Then the horrible truth dawned.......we have booked our holiday through 'Going Places' owned by, you've guessed it, Thomas Cook. Next month we have to part with our holiday balance, Christmas Eve to be exact. According to a company spokesman, 'it is 'business as usual'. Yeah, seem to have heard that one somewhere before. Oh that's right. When they kicked my old boss Fred the Shred out the door of a certain distinguished Scottish bank....