Tomorrow, tomorrow. I hate ya, tomorrow.

When my kids ask me questions, particularly the “can we have that ridiculously expensive and absolutely useless large piece of plastic on the telly, please?” I tend to say, “Yes.  Absolutely.  Some day.” 

They’re content with that.  All they want is to be answered.  But naturally enough there are plenty of times when they are not satisfied with the answer.  Like when the answer doesn’t suit them. 

Another question our lot like to throw at us on a regular basis is: “What are we doing today, Mammy?”  Usually first thing in the morning.

If it’s the weekend, that’s an easy one to answer.  A little treat is in order as we’ve all completed the daily grind that is Monday to Friday.  

“We’ll go for pancakes and a hot chocolate, will we?”

Followed by a resounding “yay!” multiplied by four.  Even Smallest Boy knows the Saturday morning routine at this stage.

Not so jolly on Monday morning’s though.  Have you noticed that?

Last week we had quite a lot on.  It was also the second week back at school since Christmas holidays and they still hadn’t settled properly back into routine.  The weekend saw the return of a favourite activity: swimming lessons.  Followed by a birthday party.

I thought I was on a cheering them up crusade when I reminded Happy Chappy Liam of this during the Tuesday Trials.

“I’ve got a nice surprise for you.  We’re going swimming at the weekend.”

“Tomorrow?”

“No. Not tomorrow.  Saturday.  After breakfast.”

“Tomorrow?”

“No.  In four more sleeps.”

“Is that tomorrow?”

“………………………………………………….nnnnoooo.  In another little while.”

“Tomorrow, then.”

“Oh, ok.  Yes.  Tomorrow.” C’mon.  You’d give up too.  I thought I’d settled that one, especially as he as nodding in the agreeable way he does.  And then he comes out with:

 “What are we doing tomorrow?”

Gah!