On Fridays I’m looking after my nephew whilst my sister is on a course. It’s lovely to spend time with the ‘phew, and Will adores ‘Nenny’.
When he arrived he asked if we could go to soft play. Request denied. I told him it was closed, but the truth is we went last Friday and I’d rather stick hot pins in my eyes than go two weeks on the trot. Especially as last week I came closer than I ever have to throwing an obnoxious little shit off the highest point I could find. His crime? I am 99% certain he threw a ball at William, from his reaction and William’s but my back was turned asking Lenny if he wanted lunch. A wizened old crone who smelt of stale cigarettes bade the demon children come for their lunch. She hobbled off on her bunioned feet and the little shits completely ignored her. So that’s why I don’t yet have the mental strength to return. Another thing I’ve noticed about soft play is I collect children. I don’t want to, but they follow me and before I know it I’m surround, whilst their guardians enjoy a coffee in peace.
So soft play was out. I was on ‘mission dress’ I have some weddings coming up and naturally I want to look nice. However I have piled a few pounds on recently and want something flattering. I told the boys I needed to look in two shops and if they were good, I’d take them to McDonalds. Shop one, no good. (The ‘phew had asked a second time if we could go to soft play instead, my ‘no’ was not well received) Shop two. Pick out five dresses. Headed to the changing room. Hadn’t even taken the first one off the hanger and the ‘phew pipes up ‘That’s too small Aunty Chesney’, he was right, curse him. In fact they were all too small. Who needs self confidence?
We went to McDonalds the boys we’re excited, so imagine my surprise when the ‘phew announced he didn’t want anything. ‘So you’re going to watch me and Will eat and sit there with nothing?’ was met with downcast eyes and a surly silence. ‘Well I’m going to order you something’, repeating the options ‘I just have chips’ a small voice pipes up. I add nuggets. What drink do you want? ‘I’ll just have water.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘You don’t want orange or a fruit shoot?’
‘Just water please’.
I click on the water pleased we’ve gone to the self service so we don’t go through the decision process with a bored employee and a queue of short tempered patrons. I check the order, click ‘pay’ hear a voice pipe up ‘actually I want orange’.
It’s too late now. You have Pookie’s fruit shoot and he’ll have your water.
We sit down. Will keeps eating ketchup off his finger until he finds his chicken nuggets. The ‘Phew refuses to eat his chicken nuggets. I tell him it’s okay, we’ll take them home for Mummy. We troop back to the car, to find some bint has parked so close I can only just squeeze myself in. (Regretting the quarter pounder and all other food choices for the past six months) I look for my novelty notepad, that thanks a driver for parking so close and advises them to take a bus in future, although there are a fair few expletives thrown in for good measure. Pad is not in the glove box. Curses. Woman who can’t park turns up and gives me evils!! I understand how ‘ordinary’ people suddenly go on killing sprees. Start the engine, focusing on the sanctuary that is home. The ‘Phew pipes up, ‘ I want my chicken nuggets now’.
Sorry Sis, no nuggets for you!
The afternoon has followed a similar pattern, my darling son keeps throwing himself on the floor and wailing. Most recently because I wouldn’t let him eat a bag of brown sugar. I’ve given him a yogurt but most of it is in the carpet. FFS.
In other news!
The boy is ‘counting’ to four. (Well he can say the numbers one to four, he has no real concept of numbers yet, but don’t shit on my parade okay?)
The boy also climbed out of his cot, I fear bedtimes will never be the same again.
I still have nothing to wear to a wedding.