The Sausage Roll Meltdown



It feels like it’s been ages since I posted and I think it probably has been.

The good news is the bathroom is almost finished – we still don’t have a floor but, much to the relief of the nostrils of our friends and family, we do have a shower now. It turns out that it is quite easy to achieve one large dreadlock when you can’t really wash your hair for weeks on end and there only so much dry shampoo can do. It’s a £2.99 beauty product not a miracle worker.

To know that we’re finally getting there with the bathroom is somewhat the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me. Not because of my tendency to over – exaggerate (which I only do like 0.4% of the time anyway) but because of the day when I tried to buy us all a sausage roll.

Last time I told you all about The Miracle of the Italian Plumber (it has capital letters because it’s now the name of an event – so sacred in our house, it has become a title filled with proper nouns and a story that we recount to each other when we need a little boost, for example:

“Oh no the ceiling is falling in and all the pipes have burst and the dog has eaten my foot!”

“Yes it’s terrible but do you remember when your Dad sent us that Italian plumber?”

It’s soothing to hear really).

So TMOTIP (keep up) was a great day and I wish it had come before the day of the sausage roll meltdown.

The day had started well enough, the other half and his brother were up in the bathroom  fitting spotlights. I was trying to make some cushions (obviously not for the bathroom) and my machine kept jamming and I broke a needle and I was having the usual struggle with zips. So far, So normal.

But then the boys were thirsty and I would put money on the fact they needed something from the DIY shop – although I’ve tried to repress the memory of it.

So, off I went to go buy some fizzy drinks and some biscuits for the workers.

There was also a Greggs counter in the shop. For those of you who are not in the UK (Hello – thanks for reading!) Greggs makes baked goods and sandwiches. It is also inordinately cheap and extremely delicious. Their sausage rolls (I haven’t had breakfast yet so bear with me on this) are a something of a national treasure, crispy, flakey golden pastry and something which I am told is sausage meat that is salty and greasy and just mmmm and bloody hell I think I’d better have some toast don’t you?

Anyway, they were on special offer and cost £2.85 for 4. They weren’t yet cooked so I did my little shop and came back just in time to be handed my bag of pastries, I put them in my shopping bag and I went home.

I proudly walked upstairs holding the bag of sausage rolls aloft.

“MMM” said the boys, “Well done Fran”.

I was awash with smug satisfaction.

“Haven’t you got one? There’s only two in here”

I paused, taken aback.

“I think there’s another bag downstairs” I offered tentatively.

I went down to check. There was not another bag.

I’d only been given two. I had just paid more for two Greggs sausage rolls than anyone has ever paid ever, even in London. I was in shock, I could not think of a rational response.

The other half and his brother hastily offered theirs to me – much in the same way you offer a dummy to a toddler about to throw themselves on the floor. However, the whole point was that I needed to feed them and if I ate their food I wouldn’t be doing my job. It then got to the point where I was almost being force fed a sausage roll and I had to get out.

“I DO NOT WANT IT!!!” I cried and fled down the stairs. Now as a child, I watched a lot of Disney and Disney 101 on how to be dramatic is to run away and fling yourself face down on the closest available floor, bed or fountain, all the while sobbing uncontrollably.

Unfortunately the floor had no space for a fully grown woman and fountain hasn’t yet been installed. So I sat down at the dining room table instead. To top it all off…

“I was only offering, you don’t need to be so rude” said the other half.

Well that was it. The anger levels up, the tears were coming, I was hungry and misunderstood. I was infuriated with Greggs and I think at one point I even threw some stuff. Yes, it was only a letter, and yes it was pointed out to me that most people throw plates or something but I don’t like to break stuff.

You see, I don’t think it was really the sausage roll at all that caused all this. It was the fact that we were still doing the bathroom, and it didn’t feel like it was getting anywhere, the new spotlights were so bright they looked like Gatwick airport but I didn’t want to admit that, since I’d insisted the lightbulbs were the right ones. We appeared to be spending all the budget on one room and it was all getting too much. I’ve never done up a house before. How does it work? Is this normal? Answers on a post card – or in the comments section if you like…

To appease me, the other half actually went back to Greggs. They wouldn’t give him any more sausage rolls but I had a ham sandwich instead and gave myself a stern talking to. Not in the bathroom mirror, because we didn’t have one up yet. Reading back over this, I can’t help but think what a ridiculous story and it is but I’m almost certain that it will not be the end of flustered meltdowns, especially when we redesign downstairs but at least then we’ll have TMOTIP story to keep us going.

So here it is, the finally, almost finished bathroom. I’ll give you a full rundown on it soon because I have to say, I’m pretty proud of it and of how hard the other half has worked.


Until then – on to the next room!




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