Parenting, Ramblings, Run to the Piss Up in a Brewery

Monday – The first proper day of the school holidays

Monday – The first proper day of the school holidays. A day reserved for kid on kid violence, oven cleaning and bin hygiene.

So that’s one fuck off massive fight, two little shits crying, three bins cleaned out, four cups of coffee to get me going after the five pints of beer that I drank yesterday. Oscar has read six pages of a book as punishment for twatting his sister at least seven times. Thug Pug has been fed around eight times. I used nine eggs at lunch time because Dangerous went shopping yesterday whilst I was out and bought the grand total of pretty much nothing that the little shits would eat. They wouldn’t even eat the bread that he procured. We had to be out of the house at nine this morning because I had to have a fasting blood test. I neglected to ask the doctor just what this meant and so read no less ten articles on why I couldn’t have a cup of coffee to get me going. At eleven o’clock we returned after our very wet walk around the park and rescuing my car which I abandoned yesterday. By 12o clock, I had given up feeling happy that I am spending the week with my darlings and had invented thirteen new and exciting variations on some classic swear words. Ted asked me fourteen times while I cleaned the oven if he can have some sweets. Fifteen minutes after I had commenced cleaning the oven, I gave up the will to live and started weeping. My rubber gloves were wet inside and the floor was flooded. Trevor farted in a vain attempt to cheer me up. He knows how to make me happy. He also brought me sixteen mangy chewed dog toys to add to the carnage on the kitchen floor. Trevor, having sensed that I still wasn’t restored to my usual joyful self, then decided to potter about in some soil outside and created a fetching pattern of black paw prints on the flooded floor.
“How many more pages do I have to read before I can play on the Xbox Mummy”
“Nineteen darling”
“Waaaaah that’s not fair I hate reading”
“Make it twenty, you grumpy little arsehole” I muttered darkly.
In twenty one more hours it will still only be day two of the bastard school holidays. I have worked out that we have twenty two pounds a day to spend if we don’t want to actually run out of money before pay day. I have rescued twenty three Nerf gun bullets from Trevor’s mouth and asked Bella twenty four times to brush her teeth. I found twenty five odd socks on the floor of the utility room along with twenty six pairs of pants. I have been asked on no less than twenty seven occasions today if we can go to the park again but on bikes this time. Twenty eight times I have mopped the kitchen floor because Trevor likes to play with the contents of the recycling bin and the twenty nine items that were in the bottles and cans bag all had just a little bit of sticky shit still In them. Just enough of something sticky and messy so that when a small but energetic dog rips them apart something foul leaks onto the floor.
It’s now 3.29, at 3.30 I need to get my sorry arse out of Totes Towers to find something to eat for dinner tonight but I’m nodding off on the sofa whilst Trevor snores gently beside me and all is quiet with the three little shits. It’s the first time today that they’ve stopped twatting each other and shouting “MUMMY, MUMMY”

The piss up at the brewery went well but I would seriously advise against the drinking of large amounts of alcohol after Running thirteen miles. The day after isn’t very productive. I’ll be better tomorrow…….possibly.