Detox not Deep Pan
We are near the end of a short-term detox; thinking we would take advantage of Didsbury Son’s journey to the centre of scouting and a quiet couple of days workwise; genius planning. I keep reminding myself I am beautiful on the inside because the outside has struggled. I assumed that Didsbury Wife and I would be skipping around like our toddlers, high on life rather than propped up on caffeine and sugar. NO.
The reality is that we have been like mardy teenagers on week 5 of the summer holidays.
I feel steamrollered. The caffeine withdrawal headache tells more stories than a credit card bill post Amsterdam.
The brief moments of not feeling flattened have usually been ruined by a vertebrae, tested beyond endurance by the Mighty Headed Boy, clicking and sending little shock waves around the body.
But the yin and yang, the good and the bad are this. My skin and hair shine like a Labrador at Crufts and I know I will feel the benefit from these tortuous days which has felt joyless and grey and had us eyeing up the boddlers’ tea like wolves in a sheep pen.
The bad (depending on your view) is that I am no longer 39 and a bit and probably need to do this more regularly. Mmm more raw beetroot – let’s party
* I have had a petition through the door signed by Didsbury’s Baristas telling me that their takings are down and they all need me back to pay their way through college