A Modern Day Love Story

Written by guest contributor, Bobbi Furgeson


The alarm clock started to buzz and Grace sleepily reached out a hand to hit the snooze button. Instead she connected with the glass of water next to the alarm clock and sent the contents flying.

Water sprayed over the clock, Grace’s phone and up the wall.

Silently cursing she crawled out of bed and rescued her phone from the pool of water on the bedside table.

She stretched and yawned as she made her way to the bedroom door hoping for a few moments of peace to acclimatise to the day before the children woke. Pausing in the hallway she heard the tell- tale noises of the family dog taking his daily dump on the dining room carpet.

And so started another day.

Four-year-old Millie roared her disapproval as she viewed the toast on her plate. Big, fat tears of frustration and anger rolled down her cheeks. She wanted jam. Not peanut butter. Never mind that she had peanut butter every day for breakfast. Today she wanted jam.

Marcus quietly packed his school bag. Today was show and tell. He checked that Mum wasn’t watching and then scooped up some dog poo he’d spotted outside the back door. He knew this would amaze everyone at show and tell.

At six years old Marcus was excited about poo.

Grace sat in front of her bedroom mirror staring unbelievingly at her mascara. Was that really goldfish food on the brush?

Marcus stood peacefully at the front door, waiting to go to school. Content with the knowledge that he had sunk one of Millie’s shoes in the goldfish tank.

‘But Millie, you MUST know where you put your shoe?’ Grace asked for the fourth time.

Millie, still hurting from the peanut butter debacle, stared moodily at her mother.

Grace opened her front door and kicked her sandals off, undid her bra and pulled it off through the arm of her t-shirt and slipped out of her maxi length skirt.

32C already and it was only just gone 9am. She wished she lived further away from the school so that she could drive there and back. But the school principal was all about healthy lifestyles and had been known to remonstrate with parents whom she considered should be walking their children to school rather than driving. It wasn’t that Grace was intimidated by the principal, but there was only so much halitosis she could cope with first thing in the morning.

She threw herself down in the armchair in front of the window and gratefully felt the breeze lifting her hair at the back of her neck. Grace looked at the pile of paperwork on her desk and felt the tears welling up. She angrily brushed them away. Now was not the time to give in to self-pity. Grace had a busy day in front of her and today was the only day she had any time to herself. And she had a to-do list that seemed to get longer every day.

She had neither the time nor the desire to linger on remembering the look of disapproval on the teacher’s face as Millie marched clumsily into kinder wearing her favourite unicorn slippers. And was that god-awful smell really coming from Marcus’ lunchbox?

At least Kevin was going to pick the kids up from school and Grace wouldn’t have to deal with the inevitable fall out from shoes and shit. It was about time he started taking his responsibilities as a Dad seriously. He appeared to have pretty much divorced the kids as well as Grace.

Anyway, with him picking the kids up, it would give her all day to get her paperwork sorted, to chase up the web developer, design her new business cards and email her clients.

Just then the phone rang……………


Grace finally felt her blood pressure starting to get back to somewhere close to normal. ‘WTF is wrong with him?’ she muttered furiously. ‘The first time this term he was due to pick the kids up from school and he cancels because Miss Plastic Tits needs to go shopping? Why couldn’t he at least have the courtesy to lie and say his prostate was swollen and needing lancing?’ Grace paused for a moment and allowed that thought to settle more fully in her mind. A smile of pure pleasure spread slowly across her face as she visualised Kevin’s stupid face screwed up in pain.


‘I HATE Valentine’s Day’ Grace said between gritted teeth as she switched the radio off. ‘Bloody hate it. If I hear that dipstick Frank from the tile company drone on about the importance of Valentine’s Day one more time, I’ll shove his tiles where the sun don’t shine. What possible relevance could there be between love and tiles?’

Grace continued working through the pile of filing. Meticulously moving one untidy pile after the next to various places on the desk. ‘I HATE filing’ Grace grumbled. ‘Bloody hate it’

Today was not going well.


Glancing fretfully at the clock, Grace heaved an impressive sigh and decided to leave the filing for another day. Again. She stared at the desk through narrowed eyes. Grace was almost certain it looked tidier than when she started. Well, maybe not tidier. Different perhaps. Different is good. Hearing the sound of the postie’s motorbike Grace gave another huge sigh and opened the front door. Even though Grace genuinely hated Valentine’s Day she was not immune from hope.

As Grace stared wretchedly into the empty mail box she heard the unmistakable sound of the front door slamming shut.

At the same time as hearing the thud of the front door, Grace looked down and noticed her bare legs.

She heard her mobile ringing in the house………………….



To Be Continued…

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