Today I got to be a knight on a white charger. An unusual role for me, but one I embarked upon with a certain amount of relish, embracing the hilarity and dealing with the tragedy which often attends such quests.

I was called to my son’s home earlier than expected, he was being bugged. Literally. The spider in the hot tub he had dealt with. But, and I quote, the huge, buzzing mammoth that flew at him with intent to kill was a different matter. Particularly as it had then taken up residence behind his headrest…

Having abandoned the hot tub at this point, with some speed I imagine, he had headed for the shower… only to be met by an out of reach spider. Having almost drowned one a few days ago, he abandoned the bathroom too, and retreated to the bug free haven of his bedroom… where he called in the cavalry.

Once duly arrived, my mission to extract the mammoth from behind the headrest was explained.

“So, you’d rather I got stung than you? That’s it, it is?”

“Yep.” He says, cheerfully. No remorse there then.

“What do you expect me to do? I can’t even reach without getting in the hot tub!”

“Oh well. You’ll get wet then.”

Stunned silence… I am, after all, fully and inappropriately clothed for dunking… (no comments about ginger nuts, please).

“Talk to it.”

“Talk????”

“Encourage it to go away. Bees like you. “

Insert goldfish impression here…

“Tell it to go away. Be a good hobbit.”

The hobbit did as it was told and armed with a small fish net went to rescue the bee from her son… sorry, her son from the mammoth.

Alas, tragedy had struck.

Fishing the bedraggled bee from the steaming water I took the dripping net back to the murderer in the bedroom, where, under the baleful eye of the vengeful hobbit he protested his innocence. It had been very much alive when he left it.

The spider fared better and was safely evicted. The fish were checked for frog-lessness… the whole pond heaves and croaks at present with them. I make no further comment, having already implanted images of horror in the mind of one reader….

By this time my son’s lunch had to be cooked and his nuts roasted. (Now then… cashew nuts)

So, it was mid-afternoon when I got home. I now await a further influx of children imminently… though I use the term loosely as they are both so very tall.

And still I sew, between coffee breaks, as the clock ticks and the day draws towards evening.

It is easy to overcomplicate things when simple is often better. Easy to pile too much on ourselves because we think we ought, instead of doing what is required. When you have been in the habit of doing that, it is not always easy to step back and say enough… it can be a difficult lesson to learn.

If I run out of time, so be it. All the absolutely essential things are ready to pack. Others can be improvised or can simply wait. What I really need to do and what I can and should do are, perhaps two different things. Priorities matter.

In this case, the priority was the mammoth.