Yesterday I had a blonde moment, a knackered mummy minute – call it what you like, I’m still kicking myself.
I could reel off a list of excuses – the fact that we have two sets of visitors at the moment, it’s BB’s sixth birthday today and it’s Thanksgiving tomorrow.
So I’m thinking about a long list of things, including a birthday train cake, presents, a tea party, a booking for a turkey dinner for 8, pumpkin pie, plus lunches, dinners and activities for our guests and, ahem, Michael Bolton tickets (no, no, no – not for us, but as an early Christmas bonus for our nanny Catherine the Great, who really wants to see him live in Dubai tomorrow!)
It feels like my mind’s on overdrive and I’m running round like a headless turkey.
When my parents arrived the other day, my Mum brought with her a new bank card for my British HSBC account, which I only use when I’m in England.
“Make sure to cut up the old one,” she told me yesterday.
And so I went upstairs, thinking to myself, “I must cut up the card” – and a good job I did too, slicing it into at least 10 pieces.
Later on, I was at the cashpoint in Arabian Ranches searching for my Dubai bank card, coincidentally also HSBC – the lady behind me staring into her gold-clasped Louis Vuitton purse and silently tutting about being late for yogilates.
Strangely, the card was missing.
The penny didn’t drop until just before bedtime, when I asked DH if he had our card (yes, after three years we STILL share the bank card!) and I suddenly realised where it was – in small jagged pieces at the bottom of the bin – my useless old British one safely tucked in my purse.
What a wally – like I really needed another item on the to-do list this week. And how embarrassing that while my parents are here and at 39 years old, I might have to ask them teenager-style to lend me some dosh!
PICTURE CREDIT: Danz family.com