Friday 15th December
Last day at work today Diary, and man, I am tired, I’m on my knees! After dinner we started putting the kids to bed when I heard my wife shouting “What did you do that for?” Amazing, the Christmas stress has started already Diary, and I was around an hour into my holiday. I knew things were going to go down the toilet, and apparently that’s where our new Christmas scented posh hand soap went, straight down the toilet! Think I will head to bed soon and pray tomorrow will be a lot better!
Saturday 16th December
Woke up this morning to be told I’m bald! Wow, that’s an encouragement I was not expecting. My son said “Daddy, you know I have hair, Mummy has hair, so does your little girl, but you don’t, but I think it’s growing!” Thanks son, for a minute I woke up feeling a little like death warmed up with a cold, but now I feel much better. My son had been begging for the treat I had for him, but I had told him I would only reward him for good behaviour, which was taken as ‘I will ask you how I’m doing until you have lost the will to live,’ so I caved in. Sorry Diary, but after being told I’m bald I was weak, so I gave him a mini chocolate.
We took the kids to see Santa at a historic house, and I have to say the kids were really good. Yes people, I did say good, and I was beginning to question if these were my children, or had they been cloned? We went into the historic house, and both my kids looked at a statue and said “Oh that’s King Charles 2nd.” Now I was still wondering how they did that party piece as there was no signs and like tour guides did it again, “oh that’s Queen . . . .” Ok kids, I am curious as son, you cannot read, and my little girl is selective and seems to be very good at restaurant menus but not very enthusiastic at other things, and there were no signs. Both my kids announced “Oh we watch Horrible Histories, so this is easy!” I was still scratching my head when we got to the end, and they announced drinks and biscuits, but only one biscuit each please. What my kids heard was “Free biscuits, grab now!” It happened in slow motion, so I could not get to them fast enough, but you remember the machines at the seafront where you use a crane to grab a teddy bear. Well like a giant crane four hands went down, and grabbed multiple biscuits, so the guy knowing full well the biscuits could not go back, just said to take them and that’s it. It’s just as well as I cannot guarantee where the hands have been. I moved out of the historic house with my head low, and two children with mouths like hamsters.
We sheep dipped the kids in the bath, and I have to say Diary, I was so cream crackered I fell asleep like an old person in a hot room at Christmas.
Sunday 17th December
My kids started the day on full charge, and during church I turned around to see my son on a very high stack of chairs looking like he was riding the waves. Before my newly found stunt man hurt himself I got him down, to screams of “I want Mummy!” This is code for ‘you crossed my will Daddy, so look up emotional blackmail as I cuddle my Mummy.’ As other parents looked on, I assumed my position of hanging my head, and walking on my own down the long and lonely corridor.
We had lunch with my in-law’s, and I went home with the kids to look after them whilst my wife went to rehearse for the Christmas show. As I write this, cans of beans and peas just rolled past, and a knife and fork just shot past the kitchen. I was a little concerned a new circus was in town, and my son was practising to become a knife thrower. I went in and asked could the knives remain on the floor, or go in the washing up bowl. My kids informed me that this was their kitchen, and I was the mad king! Funny really, after kids I feel like I have lost the plot, and just rock in my chair at night dribbling, so being called the mad king was funny!
We headed later in the evening to see my wife who had organised a choir in a Christmas performance. My kids acted like they had itching powder in their pants, and my son who five minutes earlier before the performance started claimed he did not need a wee, announced the five second warning that Niagra falls was due to start. We ran down the aisle, well shuffled sideways and having finished the world’s longest wee, I told my son to just wash your hands. Well the next thing I felt was rain in the bathroom, and a shriek like a scene from a movie. I looked in horror to see my son had put his hand under the tap, blocking the water, and pushed the lever full on. Suffice to say we both looked like we had wet ourselves. As there were no paper towels, I knew we would both be doing a walk of shame, but at least the lights were low. We shuffled back into the performance, and after a long while it finished. Now I know what you’re thinking! You’re saying ‘long’ because it was boring. No it was amazing, and if I did not have wet clothes it would have been even more amazing, however my son took the worst, so he must have felt really bad, but we had no change of clothes.
As we got to the end, they said thanks for coming and enjoy the mince pies. The lady had not even finished talking and my son was grabbing his coat, whilst my little girl had already left her seat. I did ask if we could not look like we were desperate, and at least wait until they finished. The moment we finished we grabbed Mummy and shot into the food hall. Seconds later my son took the used and abused mince pie that failed the taste test, retrieved it from his mouth and gave it to me. Something along the lines of “‘Gusting.” I managed to get a foil case and put it back in the case. Now at this point I was tired, very tired and failed to spot Captain Chaos ransacking the Christmas tree on display, so imagine the laughter erupting when I shouted to “Put the Christmas tree back, son.!” After a short game of conkers with the Christmas baubles he finally gave in. Diary, there was a party, but I got dropped off home, and my family partied the night away. Night night Diary, talk tomorrow.
Monday 18th December
Woke up this morning before sunlight to my little girl announcing she had found putty. Now the only thing that went through my brains, which was still not conscious yet, was the windows putty, but hey at this time in the morning, I was content with the windows falling out of the house if this meant an extra half an hour of sleep. I still don’t know where the putty came from, but all windows are still in the house, and no draft yet! If we sell the house I will ask everyone to not open the windows when people come to view, just to be on the safe side!
We had a lazy morning, and headed into town for a quick coffee and a little shopping when my son announced he needed the toilet. Fab son, just fab! I had no choice but to use the nearest loo which was a public toilet, and smelt like my sons underpants on a good day. I held my nose and prayed he would be quick, but it was not quick enough for my sense of smell, and I opened the door to car exhaust fumes with pride and breathed in the dirty air, which was a lot healthier than the fumes inside the loo.
As we got home, my wife said she had to go out and said “Don’t worry, the kids will be fine!” and closed the door. At that very second the kids had a punch up, and I separated them. One required attention on the computer and as I sorted the computer for my little girl, my son shouted down he had done the world’s biggest poo. It’s funny but our loo smelt like the public toilets! I was checking the floor for dead animals in case something had died days ago. I would blog about the rest of that experience but just like an accident, I have blanked it from my mind as the horror of that smell was more than I could bear to remember!
As we put the kids to bed, I was in my sons room leaving peaceful thoughts and dreams when I heard music so loud, that I was worried whoever had stopped outside our house was either deaf, or had ears that were bleeding. I was cranky that they were about to disturb the kids sleep so I threw open the curtains and windows ready to hurl abuse to the inconsiderate yobos parked outside our house when I saw Santa on a tractor. Yes, only in Dorset! Then the doorbell rang for a donation to a very good cause. I felt terrible for almost hurling abuse at Santa, and was ready to read the local newspaper headlines of inconsiderate Dad shouts abuse at Santa. I dug deep in my pocket tonight Diary, and took the kids to see Santa. As the kids came back they floated through the door, and my little girl announced she was never washing her hands again, because they had touched Santa, whilst my son said he was not brushing his teeth again, but I think he was just thinking fast and thought this meant not brushing his teeth ever again would save time. Good thinking son, but no, you really are brushing your nashers tomorrow.
As I tucked my little girl into bed, my little girl said she had given Santa our name and address just to make sure he visits us. Great, so no need to worry about data theft here, we are so careful on the internet, but give a man a tractor, two speakers from the supermarket, a clapped out generator and a white beard, and you’re prepared to sell our entire family details for free. Hey, while you’re at it kids, why not just given Santa our passwords?!
Sorry Diary it’s late and yes, again I am beat down and cranky, but tomorrow is meant to be a great day, so here’s to tomorrow and peaceful dreams. Night, night Diary.
Tuesday 19th December
I think I am only a few years from a retirement home Diary, and I’m scared. I woke up today comfortable and cosy and realised it was 7.30am and everyone was downstairs having fun. I showered, changed and shot out to repair something for someone. Whilst I was out I got a phone call to say my kids really wanted a specific film. I went up and down our high street, did battle with the charity shops but could not find the film, so I grabbed a coffee and looked online as I walked home, to find it for three pounds! Result!
After lunch my wife announced it was time to take our kids out on their bikes, and for my little girl, her first time without stabilisers. Having never done this before I was nervous but did not say anything, but just adjusted my little girls helmet really tight, and made sure the knee and elbow pads were secure and set off down the road holding her still. My little girl soon built up her confidence and was going like a rocket with me running beside like an Olympian at the races when she hit the brakes. Anyone needs to know what a bike tastes like I have a good idea, and got a face full. I politely asked if she was doing an emergency stop could she give any indications like a cough or maybe even yell “Brace yourself, Daddy!” We set off again and shot down the park like a rocket headed for another planet and again an emergency stop came up, but to give her her due, she did say “Braking!” but this time only used the front brake so the bike shot in the sky like a fighter jet. To say I was a beaten man when we finally arrived at the park is an understatement, and I was the dad hanging onto the fence shaking that day.
The journey back home was a little better. No sooner had we got home than my wife said “Right, you’d better start taking her out every day now.” Whoa there flower, I just lost a few years of my life, could you not give me a break and tell me gently tomorrow? I did get a fresh filter coffee, so I worked out the reward was much better.
I spent the afternoon making sausage rolls, which I normally do at Christmas, and my mum is the world’s best sausage roll maker. I do try every year to sneak a few more secrets out of her how she does it, but this year I had a little accident. I am not sure why but I put my heart and soul into them, but this year they had a bottom like an incontinent person aged a few hundred years old. I pulled them out and my family were very polite and humoured me saying they tasted great. My wife tried to encourage me and said the kids loved them. I did not have the heart to say our two are human dustbins who would eat sausage rolls doused in petrol and cremated to ashes if they thought they were edible.
As we approached bedtime, my wife and I overheard our kids talking and Captain Chaos was getting a telling off from his sister,. As we got closer we heard “No Captain Chaos, you’re boy looking!” “What’s boy looking?” “It’s when you just look round the room and say you cannot find it. Girl looking is when you actually pick things up and have a look!” Straight from the mouths of my children!