Wednesday, 28 March 2012

Mother's Day

A windy Mothering Sunday in Norwich. After being blown about the medieval street pattern until we fetched up at one of the gates to the Cathedral Close, we decided to treat ourselves to Italian dinner, and strolled into the snappily named Zizzi's restaurant
The children always eat well on our daytrips, they need the energy. Spaghetti al Pomodoro e Basilico for the Eldest and me, Margherita Pizza for the other two. Digestion aided by a casual stroll around Norwich Cathedral and its environs.
It started to go pearshaped when the time came to return home. At Norwich Station, we were greeted with the announcement that our train's departure would be delayed by 40 minutes due to overhead line problems at Stratford.
I sighed quietly. Never mind, we weren't in much of a hurry. We visited a small shop on the concourse for sweets to pass the time, and I noticed a small electronic Sudoku toy on sale for a fiver. "That'll help pass the time," I decided, and made the purchase.
Outside the shop, we sat on a bench on the concourse. I wrestled the game from its plastic packaging, and noticed that batteries weren't included.
I sighed quietly, again. I returned to the shop, purchased batteries, walked back to the bench. I picked up the Sudoku machine, and observed that the cover to the battery compartment was held on by a small crosshead screw.
I cursed quietly and returned to the shop. They did not sell screwdrivers. I bought a small penknife and returned to the bench. I unfolded the penknife, placed its point into the head of the screw, tried to turn it by exerting a little pressure. The penknife attempted to snap shut, thwarted in its design by the obstacle that was my finger.
I cursed, rather loudly this time, and wandered into the Station toilets, grabbing some tissue which I wrapped around my finger to stifle the bleeding. I returned to the bench and my increasingly bemused offspring, and after a deal more grappling, manage to complete my mission to get the Sudoku machine working.
We played it on the train, all the way back to our home Station, where we bundled ourselves onto the platform into what was now the cold night. My wallet remained warm, snug on the train seat, minding its own business as it commuted toward London.
It was discovered by the train's conductor an hour later, shortly after I cancelled my cards.
Happy Mother's Day!

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