Official Day of Incompetence

Took my parents into Glastonbury this morning, bought some nice salad for lunch and left it on the counter of the health food shop. In trying to track down the salad, I phoned the bank (might have left it in there) and was told by the switchboard that I was the second person to ring with a lost item in half an hour. Someone else left their keys in the bank.

T has screwed up a chalice and spilled grapeseed oil all over the kitchen floor.

The poor cat, which we buried on Monday night, was dug up this morning by something (I suspect youngest dog, who hasn't quite got her head around the whole death concept yet). Youngest dog then rolled in something else (silage, I think) and came in happily stinking.

I am thus delaring it a Day of Incompetence. If you are also having a DoI, take comfort from the fact that we too are ballsing things up all over the place. I mention all this because, sometimes, it's easy to feel that one is the only person not coping with day to day stuff, while everyone else is immaculately dressed, is cooking marvellous meals, has impeccably behaved animals, quiet and studious children, a perfect home etc etc.