“I can hear what you’re thinking,” Miss6 whispered into my ear this morning.
She and her sister, Miss8, had joined Tracey and I in bed sometime between goodnight and why does it feel like there’s a knee in my back?
“Go on then,” I whispered, hoping she could because I was thinking fairly loudly she should be quiet so I could go back to sleep.
Then I flipped out a bit.
Apparently, unlike in the Marvel universe, being able to read minds involves placing the receiving head gently, stealthily and without any forewarning onto the transmitting head. All of a sudden I had a face full of hair which, to my uncaffeinated, slumber-deprived mind, felt like someone had just lightly lowered a spider’s webs onto my face.
“Shhhh,” Miss6 admonished me when I screamed and began slapping myself stupid.
At which point Miss8 showed how her super power was almost the exact opposite of her little sister’s – she could place thoughts into someone’s head.
“He’s thinking about Mum’s boobies, isn’t he,” Miss8 accused from the other side of the bed.
And what do you know? Now I was.
I felt Miss6 sit up and then place a hand on each side of my face.
Her hands were warm. And even though I’d have preferred her hands, along with the rest of her, was in her own bed on the other side of the house, her clasping my checks wasn’t an unpleasant experience. Unlike a couple of seconds later when I let out my second scream for the morning.
She reefed my head over so I faced her.
“Stop smiling and let me focus,” she instructed me.
This time I knew to expect the walking through spider-webs sensation as she put her head on mine so I remained calm.
Several seconds passed.
And then, for the second this morning, I was amazed as a child of mine revealed their super power.
“You’re thinking,” said Miss6 finally, “why on Earth is she doing this?”
Come get ’em, Professor X. Only try not to wake me. After the night I just had I need sleep.
Much excitement at being home. Also, much mess. A busload and a shedload of stuff coming back into the house to be sorted. Multiple trips to the tip and recycle charities already. Much excitement about going back to school too. Although my wallet is struggling to keep up.Miss14 and Master13 back in the days when, apparently, band-aids were considered a clothing alternative. Tracey is uploading all our photos to a website while we’re back meaning hours of the family gathered around a computer screen giggling and saying things like, “I was sooooo cute.”Haven’t told Tracey I’m including this photo. This’ll test if she’s reading my blogs lolI was sooooo cute!One thing I’m thrilled to be doing while I’m home is giving blood. Missed out this time because they were finishing up the night I spotted them, but I’m booked in for when they come back in August. The reboot of the front half of our bus is coming along. Collected our original RV fridge from the repair shop on Wednesday and it fits perfectly where we intend to put it. Have also managed to source a ‘new’ fuel tank. At the moment we have a whopping 100L. This tank will give us 250L, allowing us a chance of making some of the larger distances between servos we expect on our NT-WA trek. Would be nice to have more pee stops than stops to fuel up on a travel day. Just have to make sure the inside of this tank is as sound as the leather-look outside.More exciting news – new batteries. This should give us over six times the stored power and enable us to free camp more often. Mind you, having only done it twice in eighteen months, ‘more often’ shouldn’t be a difficult target to top. In case you were wondering, the chair isn’t there by chance. I sat and had a cup of tea and looked at these beauties when I got them home. That might sound odd but the fact is it changes you, this bus-life.I’m not the only one who’s changed. Been busy and tired hollersplaining the difference between living on a bus and in a house to our now feral children. Things like don’t stand on the kitchen bench. Didn’t say don’t sit on the kitchen bench, so I suppose this is okay. Also, probably need to bring the dinning table in from the shed.Â
