I didn't hear from Lisa while I was in Uckfield yesterday. But apparently she heard from me. I'd left my mobile phone unlocked, and it seems that I inadvertently called her (which is something I thought only lawyers did) from my pocket whilst taking a patient's photographs. She heard me instructing a woman to follow the flashing light, and thought I was being rushed to hospital in an ambulance.
Fortunately, she soon realised what was going on, and having eavesdropped on the appointment for a while, she told me afterwards that I "sounded very nice". So we probably had a crossed line.
As it happens, Lisa had a hospital appointment of her own yesterday, in the maternity unit down the road. When I arrived home from Uckfield, I asked her how it went, and she told me that they want to hospitalise her for the rest of her pregnancy. Which was deeply upsetting news. Not least because it means I'd be left alone with Amelie.
It transpired, of course, that she was joking, and everything's fine. But by that point I'd already suffered three seconds of cardiac arrest and lost a pint of nervous sweat. I felt like hospitalising her myself.
In the end though, I let her live long enough to tell me what had happened at the nursery. You might remember that we'd received a bill for £93.40, which had been double-checked by the manager, and certified as 100% accurate and error-free. Well it turns out it was wrong. It should have been £43.40. Which is what I'd told them. It's nice when people agree with me.
The manager didn't give any explanation for the mistake (which is technically two mistakes, as she'd double-checked it), but she did say she'd put it right. At least she would do if the form hadn't already gone to the payroll department, asking them to deduct £93.40 from my next pay packet. Obviously under these kinds of critical circumstances, you'd want to act quickly and decisively, and do everything in your power to intercept the form before it's too late, in a last ditch attempt to stop the payment going through. So she said she'd e-mail them in the morning.
But in the meantime, Amelie, who's blissfully unaware of our constant money-wrangles behind the scenes, is continuing to enjoy nursery, and making new friends every day. When Lisa picked her up yesterday, they had the following conversation:
Amelie: I want to go for a sleepover at Finn's house.
Lisa: Has he invited you?
Amelie: No.
It doesn't bode well for her teenage years.
Friday, March 09, 2012
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1 comments:
Typical girl! She won't wait to be invited - just tell the chap she's coming!
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