Home Alone, Again

Don’t worry, this isn’t quite another ‘Parents Are Away Diaries‘.

But yes, my parents did indeed go away again.

Before going, my mother gave me some money to ensure I bought some food while they were gone. Y’know, to prevent me from starving and all that.

She stocked up the freezer with a few pizzas.

She bought two loaves of bread, but put one in the freezer and told me to take it out the night before I wanted to use it.

Two packets of rashers. There was already a pack and half in the fridge.

A few sausages and a dozen eggs (there was already a half dozen left - and while I enjoy eggs, I’m really not some sort of egg fiend).

She bought two packs of four muffins. That’s eight muffins. And I’m not talking about the tiny little girly muffins. I’m talking big, dirty, man-muffins. They’re the ones that you start eating, and they’re nice, but after you get about half way through, you start feeling full and you don’t want to eat the rest of it. As a man, I feel shame in not being able to finish any kind of food, so I have to pretend that I’m still enjoying the muffin and continue eating. Essentially, I have to start bluffin’ with my muffin.

They’re blueberry muffins too, which I’m not a big fan of, to be honest.

I was leaving for college in the morning, and they were leaving that afternoon. So before I left the house, my Mam gave me a big hug and told me to look after myself, and to phone her if I had any problems.

Just before 4pm, I received a text from my Dad telling me they’d arrived safe and he’d give me a call tomorrow or soon to check up on me.

You’re probably thinking there were off hiking through Africa or something.

Climbing Everest perhaps?

Volunteering in Haiti?

Nope.

They were going to Athlone.

That’s about an hour and a half journey, in their own car.

For two whole days.

Anyone fancy coming round to mine for a pizza with muffin and rasher toppings?

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