Seven again

Last Sunday, as part of Bush Mummy's meme, I was asked to complete a list of "Sevens"....the first "seven" being the seven things I must do before my parents arrive. This was billed as the seven things I must do before my mother in law arrives. They were as follows

1) attempt to pass off Sainsbury's Christmas pudding as my own

2) put festive lights up at window

3) bulk buy Kalms and paracetomol

4) get rid of my cold

5) buy Amelia's present

6) clean out fish tank and rabbit hutch

7) clean oven

I can now update my list thus:

1) attempt to pass off Sainsbury's Christmas pudding as my own Not even purchased yet. Have looked at the shelves full of Christmas puddings but am torn between a bog standard one, a luxury one, an alcoholic one, a luxury alcoholic one or a slightly alarming looking toffee chocolatey one. Easier to pass off bog standard one as my own but really like the look of the luxury alcoholic one and have put it on my Tuesday shopping list.

2) put festive lights up at window I did this last Monday evening until I viewed my house lit up from the other side of the road. One side I have the Stewarts and their epic Christmas lights display and the other side I have Jack Next Door and his privet hedge which has "a millyon twinkly stars in it mummy" (a job lot of outdoor lights from B&Q woven into the bush). Feel like the poor relation and haven't switched our shabby effort on since.

3) bulk buy Kalms and paracetomol Paracetomol purchased and lovingly stored in cupboard above cooker. Saskia has poohpoohed Kalms (she has test-driven them whilst dealing with members of the public at Gatwick airport AND whilst wearing an orange shirt and has assured me that they are "old hat now") What I need, apparently, is a good nights sleep every night and so she has recommended Nytol. "A dose of them each night and they'll last you right the way round to teatime the following day".

4) get rid of my cold Don't tell anyone but I seem to have achieved this. Okay, so I sound like I'm on forty a day after any exertion and keep getting that annoying little tickle at the back of my throat but it's nothing that a good old choke and a Quality Street won't solve.

5) buy Amelia's present I cunningly handed this chore (and it is, believe me) over to David. When I asked him yesterday what he'd bought for his mother he looked at me blankly, ummed and aaahed a bit, went red and then went out to check the shed. I spent today at Bluewater, being run over by obsessive women pushing buggies, sworn at by panicking men folk (one of whom kept going up to women in a lingerie department and asking them to hold up bras to their chests to see if he could envisage "his wife wearing it"). I ended up spending an obscene amount of money on labour saving gadgets in Lakeland, a hideous Swav....Swark.....Swazziwotsit crystal cat and a jumper that I just know isn't going to be good enough. David spent the day watching Sky Movies with Mac and had the nerve to tell me at ten to eight that he was "knackered".

6) clean out fish tank and rabbit hutch I've dropped fish tank and rabbit hutch shaped hints to David all week. He'll do it "tomorrow".

7) clean oven Not a hope in hell. I'll just have to keep everyone away from the oven and take the bulb out whilst it's in operation so no-one gets a peek. Failing that, loudly castigate David along the lines of "The one thing, the one thing I asked you to do......" and ignore the confused and bewildered expression on his face.

Amelia arrives on the 4.25pm train tomorrow. Should I panic now, or wait until she gets here?