It's all in the timing...

It's hard enough to drag my sorry arse out of bed when the sun is shining, but it's damned-near impossible to do in the middle of a December night. My alarm this 'morning', reverberating round the house like an air-raid siren, almost sent me into cardiac arrest; the time was five-thirty, and even the sparrows were still tucked up their sock-lined nests. I made the tea, let the dog out and even smoked a ciggie before I could persuade my eyes to open.

And the reason for this early escapade? Was I trying to smuggle a virile young man out of the house before the kids woke up? Oh, if only... No, my eldest son was desperate to squeeze in a coffee before leaving for an operation at Treliske.

Hospitals are a fantastic source of amusement (if you're not the one going under the meat cleaver, of course). One patient in particular had us lolling (anglicized verb derived from Latin textspeak LOL; it means to laugh heartily). He strode through the corridors, chest puffed forwards, shoulders back, arms swinging. You couldn't help be impressed until you spotted his flabby, lard-arse bouncing out of his open-backed hospital gown.

Anyway, I digress: an hour had passed and Matt was quietly awaiting the pre-med. We'd seen the nurse, the consultant and the anaesthetist. The forms had been signed. A fetching red name tag was adorning my son's wrist and the Magic Cream was busy numbing the backs of his hands.
All was quiet except for the occasional flap-flap/giggle-snort as Peek-a-Boo Man paced by.

A gravelly, yet vaguely recognisable male voice suddenly said:

"Mum, I dink I'm darting a dold."

I swung around and there was my boy, wet-nosed, eyes glazed and puffy.
"You can't be starting a cold! You're having a nose operation in -" I checked the clock, " half an hour! You won't be able to blow your nose for a week!"

My son lowered his gaze, fiddled with his sodden shred of tissue, "Dan't help it."

The consultant was re-called. He laughed - laughed! and said no problem - no problem? We should just re-book for the spring.

This is the second attempt at having this operation done; the last time, we had to cancel because Matt was laid out with the flu. D'you ever get the feeling that somebody up there is having a laugh?