Saturday, 26 March 2011

Saturday night thrills

It's Saturday night folks! So obviously I have to be quick - I need to get up and out and off to a happening club with throbbing music and lots of people in the loos doing coke. Or, I'm sitting here in my pjs having put down my knitting and awaiting K to bring me supper I shall eat on my lap whilst we flick endlessly through the 100s of sky channels we have to pay for only to find that yet again there is nothing to watch.

Quite strangely I am awaiting the arrival of monk fish wrapped in parma ham with mash, asparagus and sugar snap peas. K chose it from my weight watchers cookbook. These two things have never ever, ever happened before. I mean he has cooked for me before obviously, we have been together nearly eleven years, but fish AND weight watchers. It is a revolution. He is a simple Essex man who likes meat, carbs and as few vegetables as possible and I have been at wibblies for almost a year now and although he has been incredibly supportive (apart from the odd ill advised takeaway decisions), he has never before cooked me a meal with my diet in mind - so it is as exciting as a Saturday night gets around here.

Usually I like to spend early Saturday evening doing the supermarket shop. Being SE23 we have an amazing Sainsbury's - it is a giant hypermarket sized one with everything you could ever need and I can quite happily spend two hours there without getting bored. In fact, my most epic visit was when I was nine months pregnant with George. I was extremely keen to get him out and I needed a long walk to help him on his way, so when Bea had her weekly nursery visit, I spent a whole morning wandering around each and every aisle and if I remember correctly I spent nearly £400.  My now regular Saturday night visit began when K was working. He has to work most Saturdays, so by the time he gets back at 5 o'clock, I am absolutely desperate to leave all childcare responsibilities behind and get out of the house (although crucially without any feelings of guilt - hence the supermarket which is a necessary evil). It also means I can go shopping for clothes on my own and if I stay for long enough, I can totally miss doing bath and bed with the children. Luckily I am not a snob over clothing, actually if anything, Sainsbury's clothing seems slightly luxurious in comparison to my usual shops of choice - Asda and Primark.

By eight o'clock K is usually unpacking the shop, asking me why it took so long to buy so little and wondering why it cost so much. To be honest I'm with him on that one - it always costs loads and today's trip was not helped by the monk fish. I don't care what people say, eating healthily costs a bloody fortune, a pack of doughnuts is exceedingly cheap and would fill me up for far longer. The cost is so unpredictable each week that I have had to set up a special system for unpacking my trolley. First I unload essentials onto the conveyor belt and then separate them from the unnecessary stuff like clothing, wine, toys etc with the loo roll. Then I ask the ever patient checkout assistant to give me a subtotal after the loo roll and before the luxuries are scanned so that I can work out which ones I can keep and what I have to put back depending on my budget. Today marks the third week in a row that I have put the same top for George back. I am determined to get it for him next week.

I am lost as to why I am telling you any of this. It is excessively dull just living it, but to read about it seems slightly torturous. I am hoping that it will be read on Sunday morning with a hideous hangover which will then seem very worth it, safe in the knowledge that you weren't at home sitting on the sofa on Saturday night wondering why you are watching Mike Tyson talk about and racing pigeons. Although to be truthful if I do have a rare night out planned for a Saturday, I spend most of the week dreading it and bitching about how inconvenient it will be and how tired I am. I am very difficult to please.

(Interlude for supper)

Delicious! Definitely not a kumquat and white lightning episode. Maybe there is something to be said for following a recipe? I feel full and virtuous and have now found a Jonathan Creek to watch. I can only imagine how jealous you all are. Must get back to the knitting, this is all too exciting for a Saturday night and I need to calm down. Cocoa anyone?

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