Last Saturday the girl decided to seal the deal on the promised purchase of a new riding hat by throwing herself from her pony, managing to ingest a good amount of the indoor arena surface that on the face of it is wood chip but in reality is wood chip with equal quantities of both horse muck and urine. I wish I was a better Mum and had taken a picture of the sight before taking her to wash her mouth out with water and hope for the best but I had already caused a ripple of judgment from the non horsey parents in the viewing gallery by going to catch the pony before going to peel my firstborn from the floor. There are really only so many pearls that one can clutch at that hour on a Saturday morning.
So new hat shopping we went. I do have to wonder if I should be making an application for the girl to attend The Xavier School For Gifted Youngsters as it seemed a little convenient that her small and odd head shape made the reasonable(ish) priced hats fit badly yet the more expensive hat, the type she had been hankering after, fit perfectly. My bad parent points for the day were already too high for me to buy the cheaper hat and simply place her head in a vice when we got home so the girl left the shop happy while I left contemplating the baked beans I will be eating over the next month.
Monday brought Brownies and being shut in a small room with a group of 10 year olds creating a Christmas dance routine. The less said about this the better to be honest but lets just say that if I have to listen to the first 30 seconds (or any) of The Chipmunks do Jingle Bell Rock again I legally can’t be held responsible for my actions.
The mid part of the week was quiet enough to lull me into a false sense of calm so when today, Friday, arrived along with, it seems, the official start of the school Christmas season (and a barrage of emails advertising ‘Black Friday’ sales, why? Myself and the companies are in the UK, here it is simply Friday!), I was quite unprepared.
First it was the children bickering this morning as the lower school where off to one of the village farms pick the school Christmas tree and traumatise reindeer. This is a school tradition that, much to the girls indignation, started only once she had achieved the dizzying heights of the juniors. She firmly believes that her younger brother should never do anything she isn’t doing or has not done. She was outraged when he had surgery on his testicles aged 2 and only backed down after being reminded that she had surgery the year before. The fact she has no testicles to locate and stitch had, in her opinion, no relevance to the argument.
After school was over it was time for the biannual parental punishment known as the school disco. The whole thing is like the recipe for the 1st, 3rd, 7th, 8th and 9th circle of hell. Take a hundred odd kids aged 4 to 11 tired from a week of school, add in a day of ‘Christmas is coming kids!’ educational activities, mix in all the sugar ever with a pinch of glow stick. Leave to prove in a school hall ensuring to add flashing disco lights, bass heavy speakers and pop songs with mildly inappropriate lyrics. When all your ingredients are reaching frenzy blast out the Macarena followed by Gangnam style, YMCA and Nelly the elephant.
So another week is over, we are now officially in the run up to Christmas. I haven’t looked at the homework books yet but the contents will be added to the boys lines in the play that he doesn’t know yet. He only has two and a half lines but it is starting to feel like they may as well be two and a half Shakespearean sonnets. I will somehow get through the week of being nagged on a loop about when we are going to put up the christmas decorations, the school holidays are fast approaching and for you lucky folk that means you get a post a day holiday diary and for the days when the children are with their Father I shall try to get out a fiction piece, my ambitious side is hoping to link a series of my short ones into something resembling a longer one. I have also today started mapping out a non humorous sci-fi apocalyptic, longer length story in my mind and feeling quite excited about the ideas I am having. That is obviously both a longer term project and a more difficult one, humour is easy to hide behind!