Glue Sticks at 2.00am!

Gluestick It’s done!  No more!  Thank goodness!  My stamina’s not what it was and I haven’t had to do it!  Yep, I’m referring to the endless stream of GCSE course work.  The final push came at 2.00am this morning . . . sounds like a military campaign, doesn’t it?

Must say, I am filled with pride and admiration for my daughter this morning (well, always actually, but that feeling is heightened today).    You see, she demonstrated tenacity, courage and strength of character which are all traits she will need to carry her to the heights and through the lows of Life.

At 2.00am the glue stick ran out!  Oh, lordie, lordie what to do?  Plaintive cry emerged from ‘the bedroom’ which had been converted into an artist’s studio for the last few days.  By this time, I had found my second wind, having flagged dangerously at around 11.00pm THE PREVIOUS DAY . . . and, boy, did it feel like a 24-hour stretch!  Luckily, I was still beavering away on my computer, having decided to show solidarity with the worker.  I knew I’d taken advantage of an offer in Tesco – 10 glue sticks for a Pound – brought said treasures (they’re like gold dust in this house) home whereupon they sat in the kitchen cupboard for weeks.

Husband is a stationery-a-holic and took them for storage in that place variously named ‘The Black Hole’ or, sometimes, ‘The Piggery’.  No explanation needed.

Now, here was my problem.  Husband in bed.  Arrived home late from London.  Always difficult to rouse from slumber.  Usually ‘ratty’ when woken prematurely.  Daughter goes to ask where glue sticks are secreted.  Expects explosion.  Receives reply, "Yes".  Nonsensical.  Seeks help from cavalry downstairs at computer.  Advise caution.  I go to my storage cupboard in our bedroom, just in case he may have put adhesive assortment in there.  Negative.  Clattered around a little.  Achieved desired effect.  Stirring from the pit.  Ask the whereabouts of the glue sticks.  Jibberish uttered from semi-conscious recumbent husband.  Then, and I can only assume the assistance of Divine intervention, husband suddenly springs up saying "I need the loo anyway, I’ll find the glue sticks".  I am taken aback.  Utter my everlasting thanks and make a mental note not to let him keep the supplies.  He enters the Black Hole and goes straight to the secreted stationery.  Proffers glue stick.  Don’t want to push my luck.  Utter yet more thanks and retreat to artist’s studio.  100% gratitude received.

I enquire how much more there is to do.  Not much.  Say I’m heading bedwards, inwardly feeling satisfied (OK, smug!) that I had averted another crisis, supported daughter and, between 11.00pm yesterday and 2.00am today crashed through so much of my own work. 

"Yes, but why so last minute?", I almost hear you think.  Well, having worked on a ‘Self-Portrait’ portfolio for weeks, daughter decided to abandon that in favour of ‘Portraits’.  So, although initial work will be submitted, a whole new project began.  And excellent it is, too.

This morning my daughter offered me cheese on toast at 7.00am.  Thanks, but no thanks!  This was after she’d had a bath and washed her hair!  Usually only capable of grunting at this time.  "What time did you go to bed?", I innocently asked.  "I didn’t" was the reply.  I discover that she had finished a little after 3.00am but decided she would feel better with no sleep than just a couple of hours, so she decided to set about adding yet another section to another part of the art course work.

I sat and looked through all the work before we left this morning and was stunned by the talent displayed within those pages.  This ability must be a legacy from my Father, who was a great cartoonist.

In each subject all the course work is now completed and submitted.  I’m so proud of you, dear daughter.  You’ve really shown what you’re made of . . . and offered me cheese on toast, always a favourite of mine but not at 7.00am!  Glad you understood.

In an earlier post I mentioned that I’d asked why nobody was available to watch a DVD with me anymore.  Daughter had replied, "Ask me again in a few weeks, Mum, at the moment I have deadlines!"  I was impressed then and realised my child had turned into a young adult without my noticing.

Well, tonight we’re off to Blockbuster, your choice and I’ll throw in a bag of your favourite caramel popcorn!

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