Good afternoon/Bonjour/Hi/Hey/G’day, dearest blog,

18.00

The clanging of plates as they are placed on the table.

The clank of cutlery, counted out into 6 forks and 6 knives and one small knife and small fork.

The slapping down of two boards onto the table so that hot dishes can be placed on them.

The burble of sound from the radio. The high-pitched noise from an online game. Sounds from the tv in the playroom.

The steaming dishes of food are moved to the table and 

‘DINNER!!!!!!!!!!!’ is shouted.

Footsteps along the passageway; sock clad feet running from the playroom; the swish of too long jeans, sweeping along the floor all the dog fur, bits of food and plaster (yes, the kitchen is FINALLY being attacked. See blog 4 (possibly)). Chairs pulled out. The table wobbles as three little people, climb up into their chairs. 

The door creaks as it opens.

In walks the FAce after arriving home from the school bus.

‘I don’t think I’ll have dinner. I just did a poo that was so big I didnt’ think it was going to flush away.  It made the water level go REALLY high.’

I look at the Husband, who picks up his glass and takes a long, very long drink.  I look at the kids with sausages on their plate and hope ‘did they hear? Will that comment give them visuals that will put them off their dinner?’

I look at the Face, a serving spoon in my hand and say:

‘Hello Mum. Hello the Face. How was your day, Mum? Fine, thanks Face. How was your day, Face? ‘

He looked at me. Mentioned the size of his poo again and left the room.

The prodigal sniggers. His sniggering obviously caused a very slight problem with the wiring in his brain, as he then said:

‘Isn’t it me and the Face’s turn to do the kitchen?’

Immediately, he tried to take it back. But it was TOO late.

We ate our dinner, all the time wondering if the Monster in the downstairs toilet was slowly maneuvering (not sure that one is spelled right) it’s way out of the pipe, through the door, increasing in size and power………..

The prodigal reluctantly got the FAce who was distressed to find that a)we weren’t that interested in his poo story b)he hadn’t even had any dinner c)he had to clear up after those who had.

Fatty

‘sh-utttt UP! You shut up! Shut up, YOU!’

‘I hope that you aren’t telling ME to shut up?’

A sideways glance and the tiniest upturn of one corner of his mouth:

‘SHUT -UPPPPPPPPPPPP…………………………………’ a pause, I frown, he grins   ‘……….SPIDER!’

‘git’ I mumble. He silently marks down that word for use in the future.

 

The Prodigal

‘so if you die, me and the Face, don’t get anything?’

time check: 8.08 a.m.

Place: on narrow back roads, 10 mins into my 1 hour plus trip and two minutes before the alarm that I’m on my reserve amount of petrol starts sounding.

 

The Professor

As I wander into the kitchen at 7 a.m. this morning, bang into the oven, place the kettle on the stove and whilst waiting for it to start singing, I feel like I’m being watched and watched closely.

I turn around to be met with the RED laser of a nerf gun aimed right between my (unplucked) eyebrows.

‘I won’t shoot. I’ve been up since 6. I found Nerf War games on YouTube. I’ve been watching them for ages.’

I’m too tired to comprehend that he could have accidentally pulled up all sorts of horrors on Youtube. Could have been worse……hang on…it WILL be worse because just as soon as the Lips can spell, he WILL be pulling up all sorts of horrors on youtube and exhibiting them to his more sensitive and also younger brothers.

The Husband

Is off to Paris next week. Remember what happened last time? Be sure to log on to read about what happens when he comes back (IF…….. note – make sure he leaves the cheque book behind).

 

 

I shall leave you with this line from Sammy Davis jnr:

Alcohol gives you infinite patience for stupidity.

Au revoir, Blog.

 

 

Dear Blog,

Happy New Year?

I don’t know about you, but I am struggling this year…..the all what? two weeks of it.

I feel laden. Heavy under the weight of what? Life? the family? the pile of washing? broken new year’s resolutions (erm…..pelvic floor exercises and learn one more swear word in French – the new swear word that I will scream when, after NOT doing my pelvic floor exercises, my womb slips out at the supermarket check out)? the incessant demands of SuperGit (previously known as Fatty)? the unfinished and not soon to be finished house(s)? the fact that the kids need to be fed decent food at what seems every minute of every waking hour (note:check their bums tonight for worms)? the irresponsibility of the Prodigal to the point that I have to insist he goes back into the bathroom each work morning with the instruction to wash his body with soap and not just throw water onto bare shoulders to ‘trick me’ into thinking he has had a shower – a ploy he has been using (and the Face) since he was about 11? In fact, I feel laden and heavy from being inside my own head. I’m boring myself with my constant (internal) moaning. Jesus. I wish I’d just SHUT UP!

Right, so a quick look at the past two weeks:

1.NYE – a nun, Super Dupont (the french superhero who can laser gonorrhea, carries his own wine and a baguette), a funkster, Elvis, Dracula and a cow, headed out for the night. We were met by a sheik and a lady dressed for a masked ball. Also present were a (poor) bunny girl (guy) and a rather knackered looking pirate. Mix these types up with a load of alcohol and you’ll likely to make a nice amount of FUN………until the dawn arrives and a looooooong, difficult day with children hangs-over (you see what i did there?) your achey head.

2.I made the best cake I’ve ever made. It was the complete opposite to my usual FAILS.  

3. The visiting puppy jumped up and clawed away and ate half of my best cake that I ever made, 1 minute before her owners turned up to reclaim her. The bump on the dog’s head still remains unexplained. Fatty was mumbling about hitting the dog with a wooden sword…..perhaps…

4. Having a play room out of action for 10 days. This is bad. This means I have to sit down and entertain the FAtty all day every day.

5. Re-aquainting myself with driving a manual ickle car. First try resulted in me rolling back into the car behind as I couldnt get the blardey gear into first and the Prodigal getting out to push me forward again. There was a witness but we’ve warned him not to say a word……or else.

6. The prodigal unravelling on Sunday night and throughout Monday. He also unravelled my sense of humor, bottles of vodka, whiskey, cider and wine.  I unravelled him yesterday evening when I decided that having a monster hangover was the BEST time for him to tackle his school filling system with Mummy…..at the table until around 9 p.m.  This means the AA meeting is back on the agenda even if I don’t think he is an alcoholic. What he is, is a chippy, self obsessed teeanger…..interesting typo….teenager, who thinks the world owes him (more than he already has and he has a lot) who decided- nah, who took a conscious decision in fact, the press the f’ck it switch so that his parents got angry enough to send him back to England. We’ve seen this before. He WILL finish this course.

Life in the Village

So it’s all be quiet as I’ve hardly left the house. I’ve yet to find out if Gnasher managed to sell his house (remaining in it until his dies which, although he is 76, he is unlikely to do for another 20 years). I’ve been receiving glares from the Non-Arab woman after LF went to kick her dog (who is constantly barking and running over the street to attack our dog when it ran aggressively towards the Fatty). Still haven’t caught the dog who shits outside our door but give it time, give it time (actually that can be resolution number 3).  Our nearest neighbour booked herself into hospital for the christmas holiday. Absolutely NOTHING wrong with her but she thinks there is. She did the same thing last year too. In fact, she is probably the one person who currently moans more than I do. There, that’s made me feel better.

FAtty’s moaning has reached new levels. Once I close this laptop, he’ll stop and walk off and do something else but whilst there is a chance to wind me up, he’ll do it.

Enjoy your days……….especially you, Dazzles. Sounds like you are having more than your fair share of the FUN CAKE of LIFE!