Family Affairs and other matters

My entire house is streaked in blue.  My white towels are blue.  My bath is blue.  My pillows and cushions are blue and indeed even my son is blue.  My 17 year old son and six of his mates went to a party last night dressed as Smurfs. They all had white smurf hats, blue faces, blue tights and white shorts and frankly looked ridiculous.  The weirdest thing of all was that they went to a birthday party that didn’t have a theme at all.  They just decided to turn up like that.  How strange. There is evidence, going up the stairs that little blue pissed smurfs bounced off my walls on their way to bed.

This morning boys kept appearing to say goodbye from various rooms in my house still covered in blue paint.  I offered them cleanser but no, they all decided to take public transport home looking like I’d beaten them half to death.  Clearly an attempt had been made to remove the colour from their arms and face, but whilst quite a lot of it came off in my house, they hadn’t done a very good job. Here they were getting ready at a friend’s house:-

It’s been a busy weekend.  I had a friend’s birthday party last night which was really fun.  LOADS of good friends all squished together in a club with lots of alcohol and a great band.  Just brilliant.

Today I took my children shopping and it all went wrong.  My youngest child had a total fit  (through boredom I suspect) and stomped off in a department store, whereupon I lost him for about 20 minutes which began to panic me somewhat. My daughter finally found him but was very heavy handed about dragging him back to me and by the time they arrived they both looked like they’d been in a major fight.  Well.  They had.  Then, typically, when you least want it to happen, we bumped into someone my daughter knew – with her mother.  ”OMG!!  What’s happened to you??” she said.  My daughter’s hair was all mad and the front of her chest had red scratch marks all over it.   My son was puce in the face and crying with a bright red neck.  I went into overdrive with the mother who I’d never met saying that my children were delinquents and that I couldn’t go anywhere without them fighting and she said “oh you’ve made me feel SO much better, my daughter has just come out of The Priory after a month, so you really have nothing to worry about”.

Good grief.  Other people’s lives.  You forget how most of the time they are as bad, if not worse than your own. Sometimes it helps to remember that.

My youngest child for some reason is now manically planning his birthday party and it was all he talked about on the way to the shops.  I’ve got another six months of this.   He wants a football party followed by a cinema party followed by fireworks.  All fairly extravagant, but at least he’s not requesting Ronaldo’s presence at the football party like he’s done in the past.  ”OK.  I’ve been thinking that I’ll just have the boys for the football bit and then the girls can arrive at my house for the cinema party and fireworks.  I am going to print out tickets to get into the film and then maybe we could do a prize – I was thinking maybe we could have popcorn and sweets and somewhere we could have a “Charlie and The Chocolate Factory” golden ticket that somebody wins and maybe the prize could be like a holiday in Spain or something”.

So.  Now have to spend the next few months downsizing his expectations without major disappointment.  F*CKING HOLIDAY IN SPAIN????? What is he thinking of!!