Wednesday, 12 May 2010

Wednesday Report with Polyanna Overtones

In the new spirit of relentless positivity that fills my days (day) (hour) (minute), I will not focus on the just-sick-enough-to-miss-school-whilst-actually-not-being-very-sick-at-all elder child that put paid to my one morning of potential productivity this week (Thursday AND Friday no school! Way to go gulag! My mental health thanks you!). I will not focus on the dramatic bedside water + Macbook charger incident resulting in interesting electrolysis/corrosion/GCSE science type happenings in my pint glass. I will not focus on the maddening behaviour of the weepette, his theft of a whole packet of Chocolate Hobnobs, fridge urination recidivism or general neurotic weirdness today.

No.

I will tell you that with three and a half days of rainy Brussels nothing to fill, time has slowed to the measured plod of a slightly chilled red footed tortoise. Whilst this is a challenge, it is also rather peaceful. I have accepted I will get little or no writing done this week, I have relaxed most of the rules and I am trying to enjoy it. Lashes is slightly warm and clammy and wants nothing more than to watch endless hours of The Simpsons whilst asking feebly for biscuits. Fingers wants board games, and Nintendo. They both want to 'wheelbarrow' the dog around by its hind legs until it gets snappy (I figure the dog owes me this much after the Fridge Disgrace). At one point this evening I found Fingers crouched on the kitchen table drinking water straight from the jug to wash down the biscuits he had stolen. Then the pair of them disappeared upstairs with a large ball of string to create a giant spider's web in their bedrooms, something which invariably ends in injury (teaching them that particular trick was not my finest parenting hour). It's all going feral and so be it.

Anyway. I had a lovely bath with Fingers tonight, as a result of my momentary zen acceptance that this long bank holiday weekend was actually going to last forever. We lay for about an hour in the rapidly cooling water, testing which shower gel and soap made the best bubbles and it was very peaceful and calm, apart from the occasional yelps as Lashes tripped himself up in his lethal string mantrap and the guilty clink of weepette collar on biscuit tin from downstairs. It was all lovely, indeed, until Fingers, poking apprasingly, told me my breasts were like basketballs, farted on my stomach, then fell about laughing. I live in a frat house. I might as well accept it.

Now I am going to light a Diptyque Feu de Bois candle and listen to some kind of warbling counter-tenor early music, and hide in my bed for as long as possible. The fridge will just have to take its chances like the rest of us.

11 comments:

Alison Cross said...

Bath farts are unbeatable :-) Who needs a jacuzzi when you live with small boys?!

You are going with the flow, it's all you can do if you want to remain sane.

At least he said you had tits like basketballs - that's a result!

Ali x

Lisa-Marie said...

Sounds like a normal family day to me. The boy, who is a bit older, asked me when I went to the loo today(they like to come with me) 'Lisa, why you got a big bottom?'. I'd say basketball tits would be preferable.


Today, I accidentally took both my keys and my husbands keys to work with me, having locked the door behind me. I remember thinking 'I'm sure I lifted my keys', and then seeing his(apparently housekeyless)car key, picked mine up and off i went. He was locked in, 3 floors up in a tenement building for 4 hours. I realise this isn't anything to do with the blog post, but I thought you would enjoy my tale of stupidity!

Lisa-Marie said...

I don't know where 'who is a bit older' came from, it was supposed to say ' who I look after'

Sarah Eccleston said...

I haven't only been reading your column since I came across it last week so when I read this I didn't know who fingers was and assumed it was your husband! From the comments I am guessing it's your son... Phew!

Jaywalker said...

Sarah - Eeeeew. No. My 6 year old son! ACK. What a disturbing thought.

Ellie said...

Meh. Some days are just that wallowing in tepid water kind.

Em said...

I'll take your bath fart over my daughter offering me her old bra and a smirk.

frau antje said...

Retreating with feral children (they're the best), and you as Haley Mills, seems the only way to go. The rain does dull the noise, but I fear it's just the calm before the storm (which could be my arrogant foreign skull insisting that the neighborhood is not Jeffersonian enough). After a brief trip to Anvers your bravery is even more impressive, though it was reassuring to note that chocolate with salt was available, and Fingers is a fast food outlet.

School holidays. You have my deepest sympathies, oddly enough it's the adults...

3limes said...

Sounds like terrific chaotic fun. Especially when you put it this way!

AnonyGay said...

oh god it is STUNNINGLY dull here with the clouds and the holiday closures. this sentence, however, "It was all lovely, indeed, until Fingers, poking apprasingly, told me my breasts were like basketballs, farted on my stomach, then fell about laughing." is one of the funniest things I've ever read and caused me to fall about laughing, in fact. a bit of sunshine in a dull, gray, brussels day.

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