Bloggy, how the hell are you?

I bet that you are taking my recent silence as a good sign? A sign that all is well with the 5 boys, dog and Le ‘usband?  You’d not be far wrong:

There haven’t been any tricky exchanges with the Prodigal; the Face continues to frustrate me with his refusal to comprehend the difference between homework and revision but this will be a battle for at least another 3 years. I’ll never give in; the Prof continues to be (a) smart(arse) but kind – kind to the point of being a doormat sometimes. In fact, what do you do? Do you try and toughen him up? Or do you leave him the lovely way he is so that some cow of a woman walks all over him later in his life (aren’t I going to be an accomodating mother in law?)?; the Lips continues to score High Points on the Rev-o-meter of Fatty; the Fatty continues to get revvvvvved up by the Face and regularly tells someone (me? no, of course not. He tells me that he is speaking to the spider) to ‘SHUT UP!’

Supermarket packaging

So at the cash desk, unloading (somebody else’s – it’s possible – I did take the three youngest) trolley and I realise that I have forgotten THE most important item on my list – given the amount of snot there is within the family – tissues. 

‘Prof/FAce, go over there and grab me some mouchoirs (I say it in French just to be sure there is no misunderstanding).’

Off they run, full of brotherly love and care…….grabbing, pushing, tripping, scratching, tipping over trolleys, running into old women – in their bid to be the first one to bring back the tissues.

‘Here we go mum. We;ve both got some’

‘ah…..haha…erm (blush)…they’re not mouchoirs. put them back (without being seen) and try again.’

What they’d brought me was 4 packets of sanitary towels. I guess they would be more absorbent for the snot – perhaps we should have stuck with them. I could have attached the wings around the back of their heads, the pads on their noses…….it might just have worked…

Blog – this was a quick visit. I’m over and outing and off to the (not very) big City to collect the Prodigal. I’m not hopeful about the state he’ll be in as he left the house with 10 euros and works within spitting distance of Aldi  – the retailer of 32 cent beers. Jesus!

Adieu.

A bientôt.

SEE YA.