Saturday the 28th of Forever
Imagine, just imagine being woke up on a Saturday before the birds are out of their nest singing their hearts to the screams of “It’s a slug, it’s a slug! Nope, it’s ok, its just wet tissue roll I made earlier!” Well that was my Saturday wake up call, followed by my kids telling me it was time to get dressed and go downstairs, and if I wanted to, I could make them drinks, breakfast and put the television on. Why thanks kids, that was just what I dreamed about for my Saturday morning. As I went downstairs I dreamt about all the other people still in bed, including Mr Sun and all the birds that sing their hearts out outside our window.
For the rest of the day Diary, just imagine you held an illegal nightclub / rave inside a three bedroom house for a few hours, and then you have an idea of what the house looks like. The two man tent is now in the front room, quite why I do not know but hey, at least the kids are not arguing. Even though they are jumping on a bed upstairs I am scared to move the tent in case I get busted as I usually do. I think some sort of siren goes off upstairs and warns the kids, as I usually find two kids racing downstairs asking what I think I am doing!
Trying to get some much needed brownie points I volunteered to cook dinner, and just lately the kids have been getting cranky with the amount of worms in their dinner! To you and me Diary, it’s onions, but the kids call them worms, so I had just a spark of inspiration that could have started a fire in the kitchen. I grated the onion, and put it in with the mince meat, and viola, a perfect Spaghetti Bolognese, with no signs or worms anywhere. I served it with plenty of their favourite cheese, and was just buffing my halo, when the kids ate the cheese and both said they were not hungry. I tried to encourage the beautiful meal by showing them no ‘worms’ but they both said they were not hungry. Typical, just typical, oh well Diary I am trying, just like my mummy use to say “Very trying”.
Night, night Diary.
Sunday the 29th of Forever
Oh Diary, half term is nearly over, and I really need the rest at work. On arriving at church everything was quiet, when my kids shouted “Ok your turn, I will hide!” I collected Captain Chaos from the provided crèche and all other children were playing sensibly, but as I could not find Captain Chaos, the leaders pointed to a large play car, and my son had it on his head. Now normal children would be in the car peddling round, but no, mine was wearing it, but as they know me, they thought nothing different. I retrieved my son from the car, and made lunch, and asked the kids to both play.
My little girl initially had my niece’s mobile phone, and was playing music, but as the battery ran low she handed back, and I gave her my old mobile phone and told her to play my music on that phone. A few minutes later my little girl came back and said “Daddy, there is a problem, there is no cool music on this phone.” Ok my little night club DJ are you saying my music is not cool? To which she replied “Sorry Daddy, I need something with a beat!” A beat?! That’s charming I am not one hundred and two, I know what a beat is, and I thought my music was cool, so I just aged about fifty years in the last few minutes.
The rest of the afternoon was spent with bust ups over toys, to which I clearly had not paid enough attention to as they were naming toys they needed and neither I nor my wife had no idea what they were, so we acted as professional negotiators by just asking them to point at the toys they ‘needed’. I feel it went really well, as both children ended up crying claiming the negotiations were not going well, so I brought out my secret weapon. In the event of an argument you bring out ‘Alistair’s Tin’. This is a tin that can resolve any argument, situation or disruption, and bring about peace. In fact I may loan it to the United Nations to trial. Inside the tin is every kind of treat known to the kids, and every time it brings about joy. Well all except me, as DJ uncool is taking his untrendy music to bed, you still love my music don’t you Diary?
Night, night Diary, we both survived half term, yippee!