NOTE: This post has been updated on 14 October due to my embarrassing blunder in scientific history. Blerg! See here for full disclosure…
I remember when I was young(er) and my father would travel quite often for business. This was always, always the time when something went wrong in our house and my mother would have to deal with it alone. It was inevitable – the plumbing would rupture, the toilet would overflow, the car would break down, the dog would get sick, the kids would get arrested (kidding).
Of course, this was also inevitably the time when my mother would wallpaper the bathroom or paint the kitchen. I guess
Newton’s Murphy’s law worked both ways in my house.
Now that Pappa Svendsen is gone for two weeks getting set up in Gran Canaria (check out our new locale here), I’m discovering a new-found sympathy for my mother’s former plights. He’s only been gone for four days and already
Newton Murphy is in full swing.
The computer breaks down and I don’t know what to do (we recently purchased a MacBook Air which I both love and hate in equal intervals).
Lille Per discovers the joys of the television remote and now you can just guess what doesn’t work anymore.
Teething pains descend and Lille Per is at maximum levels of fussiness until – miraculously – tooth number two made an appearance.
And days like this happen that make me wonder how single mothers ever survive.
We’re only renting our place here in Oslo, so I’m not following in my mother’s wallpaper/painting footsteps quite yet. But I am doing my own version of pet projects during my quiet nights at home – writing on this blog, trying out some new recipes (since I’m the only potential victim), looking over a few Spanish lessons, taking a quick farewell trip to a friend up North…. Whatever it takes to get out of the house and avoid as many versions of
Newton-ness Murphy-ness as possible.
Let’s just hope the kids don’t get arrested while he’s gone (kidding).