Friday, 15 November 2013

The Ballad of the Mornings

'Morning! It's time to get up.'

Silence.

'I said, it's time to get up now, come on loves.'

More silence.

'WILL YOU BOTH.

           GET.

                     UP.

                                 NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW.'

'Clean your teeth clean your teeth clean your teeth clean your teeth clean your teeth clean your teeth.'

'Weetabix-porridge-toast-CAKE-Weetabix-porridge-toast-CAKE-Weetabix-porridge-toast-CAKE.'

'But I waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaant cake.'

'Jamie put your socks on please.'

'Jamie put your socks on please.'

'Jamie put your socks on please.'

'Jamie put your socks on please.'

'Jamie put your socks on please.'

'What did you say Mummy?'

'Shoes, water bottle, bag, coat. Shoes, water bottle, bag, coat. Shoes, water bottle, bag, coat.'

'VIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTAMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN. My need my VIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTAMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN.'

'We are SO late SO late SO late SO late SO late.'

'What did you say Mummy?'

'PUT YOUR ********************* SOCKS ON NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!'

'Alright Mummy. I AM putting my socks on. You only had to ask me.'

Twelve hours until gin, twelve hours until gin, twelve hours until gin.






Anyone else?

Thursday, 7 November 2013

I'm still standing

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

(Another totally nonsensical start to a post. I was going to write 'I'm still here', then realised that with my blogging apathy at the moment that's pretty much what I've entitled every second blog post, and I should probably try and be a little more original instead.

So I stole the title of an Elton John song instead. Originality: totally my middle name.)

With an opening like that, I bet you're glad I've been away.

I haven't been doing anything glamorous: far from it. Life has just been full of working and sleeping and leaping up and down and trying not to drink twelve bottles of wine in one go and child wrangling and novel writing and and and and and. Plus Mr Jamie has been selfishly lacking in blog-worthy material. (He has got his first wobbly tooth. It's a blog post just waiting to happen.)

But THEN. In honour of Bonfire Night, we had this moment of utter, utter glory.

'Mummy?'

'Yes Jamie?'

'We've been learning about Bonfire Night at school. Fire is our new topic. Not superheroes any more.'

'Oh. Good.' (Superheroes was a topic at school? Gove is right: we clearly are dumbing down education.*)

'Yes, and I know all about Guy Fawkes now.'

'Excellent. What have you been learning about him?'

'There's a rhyme, Mummy, that we've learned, and it tells you how to remember all about him.'

'Fantastic. Can you tell it to me?'

'Remember remember... Oh.

'I can't remember the rest of it.'

Bloody LOVE HIM.


*Don't panic. I haven't lost control of my senses. I was being facetious: Gove still clearly needs to be put in a blender with the lid held firmly down.

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