Travel traumas

My partner has just come back from Spain after a marathon journey.

My partner is having a bad week. He has been in Spain to take his mum to hospital and was due back on Tuesday night. Unfortunately, our family seems to have done something bad in some previous life to the French. Not only were we blockaded in Dunkerque last year, but my partner was hit by a French air traffic controllers strike [indeed I myself had the good fortune to spend the night at Barcelona airport a few years ago due to a similar event]. His flight delayed by three hours, but when he got to the plane he had to sit for two hours until Easyjet announced that the plane had a technical fault and the passengers were bussed back to the terminal. The passengers were told not to take out their frustration on the staff who could only offer water in recompense. 
My partner eventually arrived in the UK at 4.30am only to find that his car, which is on its last legs and was stuck in the airport car park through hail, sleet and snow, wouldn’t start. In despair, he headed for the car park bus stop which had a helpline number and someone came with a jump lead to start the car. He arrived home around 6am to be greeted by a pregnant person with leg cramps and a very small person doing a sleepover in our bed. 
He spent the next day looking half dead and it didn’t help that the cat is not well and being sick all over the place, it’s about 15 degrees colder than in Spain and I haven’t had time to stock up on nice food. Plus Wednesdays are my busiest day so I hardly had time to speak to him. This is due to work, but also I do the Tesco online shop, the washing and bath-time. Plus the bonkers one has ballet, which she initially refused point blank to go to until I distracted her by talking about her forthcoming birthday celebrations and mentioned in passing that I had studied acting with Bradley’s mum off Eastenders eons ago. She was rather impressed. "You mean my mum could have been on Eastenders?" she asked, wide-eyed. She went into school yesterday to spread the news in a high state of excitement.
Meanwhile, my partner had faded by dinner time, which was the only window I had for talking to him in my entire day. I am hoping that in the near future, before the baby comes and we have no windows at all, I will be able to have a conversation of more than 10 minutes with him when I am actually concentrating on what he is saying.

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