📝 A Thank You From @PlanetFPLWifey (Patreon)

I would like to say a big thank you to all who contributed to the surprise holiday fund (to give it a name!) We were both overwhelmed by your kindness. I could be mean here and think it was monies gifted to keep James off the air for longer, but I know you all love him. I suppose he is alright.

Now to bore you all. James always says I am a terrible story teller (and I always say that is because he never listens!)

You will not be surprised to know, that when we met, although not working in this field, James was a loyal worker (AKA a jobsworth). Not that he liked his job, but that didn’t matter – he worked hard and put in the hours (which were awful). I on the other hand got made redundant the day before I met his parents for the first time (and skipped out of my City offices straight to Tottenham to watch them play Arsenal the same evening of my departure). I was actually elated to have been gifted my season ticket (ha – not that one, the one for the trains) for the remaining six months or so left on it with the repayment having been voided as part of my severance.

That seems a long time ago now. It was in fact over a decade ago. James knows these things because he mentally marks milestones against football matches. I note the passing of time when the annual LinkedIn reminder ‘congratulates’ me on another year at work. I also remember our wedding anniversary as we have mugs with the date on. Not that I use mine. It’s not right for tea. It’s the kind of mug you might use when the others are in the dishwasher. James gets to have the depressed monkey mug when we are short. It was supposed to be a romantic gift. I can’t remember why. But the inside is black (like the monkeys soul). I digress. No one cares about mugs (or do you? Idea for a pod?)

I was really pleased for James when he started to work at Suj’s company. And for myself. 9 to 5. Just call him Dolly (I actually think it was 5.30, but same thing). I don’t think either of us could have predicted what happened next. Meeting someone who also liked football and in turn FPL. There were two people with these linked hobbies in this world, and they met. If ever there was a moment to get matching depressed monkey mugs, that was it.

So, no longer 9 to 5 (30), James started to rack up the hours again. But it wasn’t so bad. I had just returned to work after more than a year away, having taken extended maternity leave with Harry. I think I made it back six weeks before we were sent home. That’s the end of my boring story. OK, fooled you. But everyone had a rubbish time, some a lot worse than others and we can just not dwell on it now we all have to sit next to people again on public transport (most unfortunate – I had a woman take off her shoes the other day opposite me, put socks on, then the shoes back on – why didn’t she put the socks on at home? Most odd!)

The crux of it is. James does work all hours. Sadly for him, I am mostly at home now (well half of my working week of four days)! So even if he is working, I, and most importantly Harry, get to see him (and hear him – he does go on, in case you haven’t noticed).

Like most people, we have not been away for a while, having to cancel our last booked holiday (secretly not so secretly pleased as it would not have been the sangria infused multiple naps a day dream I had envisioned with a one and half year old). We dared to dream this year and have booked a week away for our little family, just in the UK. When I say we. My idea. James’s money. We did attempt a weekend away once, but I am still not over it to speak of it, so this is going to be the official first trip! It shall not be restful, and I have a list of places as long as my arm to visit. It’s not like we were going to lie-in anyway (well James might, he can sleep through a small person sitting on his head, whilst alas, I cannot!) I am sure we will spend a small fortune as well. But we will all be together, no work, and Harry is now starting to really get excited about things, which is a joy to see. He is a man of few words, but is slowly getting there, and this time before he goes to school is so precious to us.

James however has earmarked the fund for my thirtieth birthday. You might have heard forty. I can’t possibly be. I have the squeaky voice of a five year old. I have long wanted to go on safari. In Kent. Just call me Fergie. G.L.A.M. It is reassuringly expensive. Although we have actually found somewhere else that might suit us better in the midlands. Basically overpriced mud huts no doubt where you might see a mole in the morning whilst making tea in your depressed monkey mug. Just kidding. It will be Sports Direct level mug/holiday ratio.

“Making memories” actually makes me feel a little bit sick. However, that is essentially what this fund will enable us to do. We are so lucky to be able to take time with Harry and just enjoy him. That does often involve park visits after a deadline recording and in between going off to Spurs. Or seeing each other all together at home before Harry goes to bed and James does more work. I also want to mention here I am not a layabout. I also put in the hours at work!

Knowing there are people who appreciate what James does, and that he gets to do it for a living, is pretty nice. No it is not ideal sometimes, and I do get frustrated (and my dream team never beats his!), but it is rare to get to work on your passion (24/7!)

I shall now sign off, grateful to all. And you can all be thankful this is a written effort rather than a vocal appearance (I never fail to be shock myself with those, although my sneezes are remarkably good).

PFPLW x