I am very tired. This is due to three reasons, Birds, pets and a teenager.

10.15pm last night and the teenager who is not feeling well decides that for the first time since she discovered wifi, ipads, and mobile phones she wanted to sleep with her mum as she wasn’t feeling well. Now bearing in mind the last time the teenager wanted to sleep in mummy’s bed she was very cute and the size of one of Santa’s helpers. The teenager now happens to be bigger than me but still sleeps as if she is a toddler. Starfished across the entire bed, with about an inch of mattress for me to get comfy.

So after managing to fall asleep scrunched up in the foetus position I start to doze off into a nice peaceful sleep when I am woken with a start by Twit twooing  of an owl with what can only be described as the lung capacity of Pavarotti. This owl appears to have made his home in the tree right in front of my house and proceeded to serenade the night with the owl version of Nessun Dorma until about 3am.

Silence. The bird of prey Pavarotti impersonator appears to have stopped for an interval. Marvellous. Right, as the teenager has slept through the owls opera and is now quite happily fast asleep I  to move into her bed as she wont notice I’m gone. Lovely. Comfort at last. I’m just nodding off to be woken by the dog who heard me get up and now think’s its time to get up and go for a walk. So up I get, let dog out to empty her bladder and wearily climb back up the stairs get back into teenagers bed now accompanied by the dog and fall asleep.

3.52am. I wake up feeling my breathing restricted to find the cat asleep on my face. Move cat then spend the next 10 minutes trying to remove cat hair from my nostrils. Right, back to sleep. Lovely………. ‘MUM….MUM….MUM!!!! The teenagers awake and now climbing back into her bed and assumes the starfish position. Great. Foetal position it is again then……and sleep.

5.38am. I am awake courtesy of the three pigeons who have taken up residence on my roof and are now what sounds like, auditioning for a part in the pigeons amateur dramatic society production of River dance. THAT’S IT. SOD IT. I may as well get up. So up I get…. Teenager, Dog and cat don’t even stir. Typical. Go downstairs, switch TV on to be greeted by Piers Morgan and Donald Trump. Fantastic. My life is now complete.

8.10pm. I’m now off to bed. No teenager. No Pets and no Birds courtesy of a pair of ear plugs. Goodnight all.

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