Saturday, 4 April 2009

Saturday in five acts

1. I go upstairs to fetch pants and socks for Lashes who is going on a pokéstravaganza sleepover. I get to his room and am overcome with the grubby but welcoming sight of his bed, full of dribble stains, Pokémon cards, sellotape and odd socks. I collapse on it and drift off into lurid daydreams to the background sound of the CFO vigorously hoovering. Eventually I fall asleep. When I wake up twenty minutes later I have to pretend I have been cleaning the loo.

2. Lashes despatched to pokéapocalypse and Fingers graciously allowing the Space Cadette to assist him making playdoh spaghetti, the CFO and I hop on the mid-life crisis and roar off for an afternoon of carefree lèche vitrine. Just as we enter the tunnel opposite the Royal Palace, at the bottom of a large slope, the mid-life crisis splutters, hiccups and stops. No petrol. We have to push it out of the tunnel to endless beeping and hand gestures, and abandon it near the Filigranes bookshop (local detail, Brussels residents), walk all the way back to the petrol station, get petrol, go back, restart the mid-life crisis and set off again. We go the Fnac with the rest of Brussels and stare cluelessly at the CDs, eventually giving up. I buy lots of lovely novels. The CFO buys a cable. We are both pleased with our purchases.

3. The Space Cadette, Fingers and I take the weepette to the park, where it demonstrates its cravenly submissive character by allowing anything on four legs to push it over and sniff its genitals, lying back with its pink belly exposed and paws tucked into its chest, an unfathomable expression in its reproachful eyes. "You are an idiot Oscaaar" says Fingers in heavily accented English "you have a cerveau de choux de bruxelles" (Brussel sprout brain). The weepette has no self-respect. It needs therapy. Just as we are supressing hysterics at a dirty white frizzy rat that moves, bouncing hind legs together like a rabbit, a giant slathering hound with a disproportionately large lolling tongue lumbers up to me. It sniffs around my feet, then cocks a leg and pisses straight onto my leg, all down my charcoal grey Falke cotton tights. I am completely confounded by this and cannot think of a clever rejoinder when the owner of the Hound of the Baskervillles tells me 'he's never done that before'. The weepette is driven wild by the scent of strange dog piss and will not leave my leg alone.

4. I am trying to exchange thoughtful emails with Cassandra about the strangeness of romance and infatuation and whether or not it is a prerequisite to a successful relationship and long term happiness. At the same time, I am ineffectually sweeping playdoh spaghetti into an approximate heap with my bare feet, conducting a conversation about investment funds AND playing 'I spy'. I give up on all endeavours and eat a strange bar of chocolate.

5. I am watching Fingers eat his dinner, which he does with little or no enthusiasm, frequently giving up to do small mute dance routines involving elaborate hand gestures - pointing, whirling, fluttering. They are very entertaining. I look down and realise I am stirring my tea with a Bionicle arm.

Scenes from your Saturday?


Mr Farty said...

Mrs Farty turns on Sky News to watch the State Funeral of St Jade the Goody. I volunteer to do the weekly shop.

First stop is to drop off Mrs F's watch to get a new battery fitted. The shopkeeper gives me a ticket and tells me, "thirty minutes".

On arriving home with the shopping, I see that the funeral is still in full swing. Thankfully, I find that I've forgotten Mrs F's watch and have to go back for it. Oh dear, how sad, nevermind.

SUEB0B said...

1. I awaken to find the shower is still clogged. I consider a hat, but just wet my hair and push it around with my hands.

2. I go to Farmer's Market where I engage in endless post-hippie politeness at the tomato booth ("No, after you," "No, I'm quite sure you were here first," "No, please, no problem."

3. I visit my parents and get up to leave about 11:15, because I have discovered my cauliflower is rotten in the center and must be returned before market closes at noon. Market is 7 miles from my parents and about 1/2 mile from my house. "Will you come back about noon?" my father asks. "Um, I wasn't thinking of it." "And bring me a milkshake," my mother adds. Guilt thus heaped, I insist that I do really have things to do that involve my home, like laundry and leaving endless comments on blogs.

4. Cooking vegetables and doing laundry. Feeling guilty that I have not delivered a milkshake.

kathycastro said...

Ah, but you have seen MY Saturday, my dear Waffle...

Yours sounds a bit more, um, diverse? Mine, perhaps a bit more relaxing?

Layla said...

With extra tweeting duties now completed, resolve to get stuck in to urgnt task of unpacking 75+ boxes of books and shelving them in camel barn library.

Open box of books. Put a few Penguin Classics on shelves. Find long-forgotten novel by one of favourite crime fiction authors.
Lie down on sofa for a minute with book....

And now it's time for bed. This book-unpacking project is clearly going to be fraught with difficulty.

Jessica K said...

Went to health fair at my kids school and meet the Delaware Dairy Princess who was giving out chocolate ice cream. Children won endless tickets and prizes and were recruited by the national guard.
Was set to go to DC for a Japanese street festival, part of Cherry Blossom festival, but kids really, really didnt want to go. Ended up crying with boredom, frustration and loneliness and realized I am crying a lot these days.
Husband was very sweet esp. as we had a massive row the day before and reassured me when I stated that clearly I was in the wrong family.
Should really be reading about microbial genetics but need to escape this house and am eyeing my still packed suitcase.

WV is press, as in depress? Or that I will become a professional writer?

Kate said...

F goes back to bed immediately after getting up. I distract C with TV so I can email and look online at hotels while I think about getting a room for tonight to be alone, swim in a pool and take a bath and do work without anyone pulling at me or talking to me or needing something or having to look at the bordel at my house.

We go out to a very late breakfast, where I sit there feeling miserable and panicky about everything i have to do, what a rotten mother i am and my freaking taxes.

I go home, C and F go do stuff (spend money we don't have) and I sit on the couch under a duvet and watch home decorating shows that I've taped instead of working.

The potty battle begins - we spend at least an hour (felt like 4) trying to get a little girl who obviously had to pee very badly to actually sit down and pee but had every excuse not to (and fought a ton about what was the best way to do it). I finally resort to painting her green potty purple with her and taping pink feathers and pipe cleaners to it when she starts pissing on the floor and I plop her on the potty where she pees her brains out and cries. Until she decides it wasn't so bad and we finish painting the potty and cleaning up pee.

Reward C with a trip to the cupcake shop. She insists on walking there herself at an incredibly slow pace in the pouring rain and we are soaked and grumpy by the time we get there and soaked and grumpier by the time we get home and she is dead asleep. Even though it is much too late for her to sleep, we are so exhausted, we stick her in her bed and don't care. I'm sure we'll be up all night... maybe I should have gotten the hotel room.

OMG. my WV is bworse... like things could be worse or maybe how could they be worse?

Kate said...

sorry. that was really long.

mothership said...

day started well enough - dance class always good, but has predictably descended in tone and is now dangerously close to what will be the nadir of my weekend - a 2 year old's birthday party with bad cake and worse conversation (that's the parents, children a slight improvement).
Skulking in the bedroom commenting on blogs pretending I'm drying my hair.
Considering faking last min migraine.

pinklea said...

Got up early, drank almost a whole pot of café (avec beaucoup de lait), started laundry, watched TV online till Darling Daughter got up at 11:30. Pretended to listen to her. Did more laundry. She showered and left. I showered and did more laundry. Ate a banana. Cleaned two bathrooms. Did more laundry. Vacuumed half of house. Ate some fruit with Coolwhip. Vacuumed other half of house. Finished damn laundry. Sat down to laptop again. Have to go to the store now. Am out of alcohol and it's almost cocktail hour(s).

Maternal Tales said...

Spend whole day getting eldest child revved up about the greatest Steeplechase on earth only for her to choose the one horse that dies of a heart attack as it jumps the final fence. She is only 4 years old and I fear she may never recover.

A Woman Of No Importance said...

Lanky child in London with family friends, sunning self in Haagan Dazs cafe near Earls Court - Mother (moi) wants to spit, for I cannot vie with millionaire family to procure wonderful city weekend...

Attend 3rd birthday party of half-Egyptian niece - Her father, sister-in-law's ex, threatened to have her taken into care last week because of her having had a glass of wine when he called, was there with his Estonian au pair illegal immigrant girlfriend; I fight with significant other and nephew who want to punch ex's lights out for fear of police involvement, and mull on international relations and joys of diversity...while wondering how I can make the ex disappear for all our sakes...

SO checks Grazia for any mention of Sainted Goody before I can buy copy... Return home for two hour sess at local, rural pub, where I am narrowly missed by several darts, flung by farmers asleep from lambing, and finally harangued by neighbour for not buying meat locally, despite butchers never ever being open during working hours... Leave money at bar for butcher's next pint, endure hugs from said butcher and offers of cups of coffee in his kitchen next time I call, and slink from pub, dodging darts, to text from lanky child, saying he is having a fabulous time in SoHo restaurant with fish-tank wall! Quelle vie!

redfox said...

Aside from special festive occasions, I smoke exactly one cigarette per day. Because I realize that it would be much better if I only smoked at all on special occasions, though, I have deliberately allowed myself to run out of cigarettes. This is perhaps the feeblest, smallest version of quitting smoking possible. What's more, it is not even yet the time of day when I would be having my one cigarette. But even so, already, it is making me terribly sad.

Red Shoes said...

Had a fantastic Saturday, actually. Slept in: 12ish hours. Divine.

Easily convinced Wife to have lunch out. Better still, in the French Quarter. We eat in the same little place we always do. It is dirty and the service stinks, but lovely little pizzas and very cold beer.

After lunch, we are slightly buzzed, feeling youngish and free and unwilling to return to our responsible adult lives of housework and taxes and oppressive duty. It is only 2:00 in the afternoon but we decide it is plenty late enough to hit a bar we used to go to years ago... back when we were interesting. Next 5 hours spent drinking beer and then Lavazza. We watch the absinthe be poured and, although we don't partake, we do feel rebellious and naughty and buy a pack of cigarettes despite having quit smoking 4 years ago. We chain smoke half the pack before it becomes too disgusting. We are content, feeling our oats, wondering why we don't do this more often, why we forgot that we still have such things in us.

At dusk, we head home to flickering gas lanterns and dark, spanish moss overhung streets. We feel tranquil, content and romantic... as if we might even ... you know. Once home, Wife falls asleep within 20 minutes. The oxen who live downstairs are having a LOUD party. AGAIN. Which makes me angry. Crochety. Makes me want to yell and shake my fist and call the cops. I remember that I am Old. *sigh*

redfox said...

The time for my cigarette arrived. I went and stood around in the cold anyway, for ritual's sake. It was pathetic, but comforting.

Roshni Mitra Chintalapati said...

hahaaha!! Very entertaining.. I wish half my Saturdays were as eventful.... though not the part about the canine menace pissing onmy leg!

mothership said...

Had to tell SOMEONE! Party was FABULOUS! Four and her little friend invited me on an adventure with them and we escaped the party and explored the storm drains and back hills of the neighborhood. They led me into all sorts of trouble but fortunately my mother wasn't there to tell me off. Got back an hour later totally filthy but was fine because I was the 'parent' in charge of the 'big girls' People were grateful to me, even. Best fun I've had in years. I love my daughter. Long partnership in crime only just beginning.
WV toura.
most appropriate

GingerB said...

Early morning, art class with nearly 3 year old who mood swings through party hat making but loves the glue and pom poms anyway. Got groceries, met up with politician in noodle aisle and again remembered too late that I shouldn't go out without hair and makeup in place, lest I be recognized as the slattern that I am. Obsessively knitted baby's sweater in car on way to Aquarium where it become fully apparent that my stepsons are hopelessly illiterate when they couldn't get the joke on spider's write-up as being known for shooting excrement when under stress. Toddler girl repeatedly tells other people "don't look at me" but never says it to me, giving me strong sense of accomplishment. Stepped on some Bionicle bits and Legos but not exciting enough to have such objects in my food or beverage. Smoked a cigarette and hid it from the children.

Am old and dull.

Leslie said...

I took a break from my authentic gap-year experience and celebrated my heritage by eating fried macaroni bites at a T.G.I.F.'s.

It was glorious.

Oh yah, and that's American heritage, not Italian (in case there was any confusion).

bevchen said...

I spent the first half of my Saturday in IKEA and the second half putting furniture together. Yours sounds more interesting. Plus my arms hurt today from carrying things up the stairs. Why did I get a flat on the 3rd floor of a building with no lift?!?

Grit said...

Bugger. it's sunday and already i cannot recall a single thing about saturday.

katyboo1 said...

Met with friends with kids for lunch at a pub which turns out to have been closed down, which was nice. Tried pub number two, which was the whitest, frilliest pub in the world, which is bad when you have five kids between you.

Made minimal mess considering. Then went to the country park and did bracing child centric things whilst dreaming of hot water bottles. Ate ice cream in a gale and thought of coffee.

Came home, picked up child for sleepover and forced her to watch lots of Buffy.

Could have been worse

Iheartfashion said...

Drove an hour to take a 4-hour standardized test for entrance to grad school. Math, Verbal, and Essay sections. Found writing essay on "Tradition and Modernization: Compatible?" strangely enjoyable. Scored better than expected on Math, so day was a success. Rewarded self with coffee milkshake.

Mrs C said...

Saturday we went to the doctor. Certficats medicaux for the children who are bogging off on spring break and Meds for their mother.

Said mother spent the rest of Saturday decidedly numb. It was cool.

Housework. Waxing floors.

Reconciliation with mother's mother.

Dinner for oldest child's birthday at a restaurant. At dinner, there was talk of separation when the children were bouncing on the family friendly restaurant's trampoline . But mother was numb so conversation died quickly. She stared out window..

emily said...

1) get up early, decide cant face day yet and that the light is too bright, go back to bed
2) get up again, head to bank, queue with awful people who insist on handing over their years wages in pennies, get money, pay bills
3) fel sense of acheivement, go and blow savings on sofa, feel guilty
4) decide may as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb, go buy several new tops, a new skirt and shoes...
5) go home early afternoon when city appears to have gained triple its usual population, hide in bed watching dvds and ignoring everyone except beloved when he brings chocolate and coffee