04/04/2017
Mummy says âDarling? You know how it is the school holidays?â
Daddy makes a non-committal noise, unsure if he should admit to any such knowledge until he has ascertained what exactly it is that Mummy wants.
Mummy says âYou do know it is the school holidays, because I have been complaining for weeks about the school holidays approaching!â
Daddy makes another non-committal noise. Daddy is not sure whether it is better to let Mummy think he does listen to her, or let slip that he has long since perfected the art of tuning her out.
Mummy says âWell, anyway. I was just wondering if you were actually planning on taking any time off over the holidays to spend with your precious moppets?â
Daddy mumbles something.
Mummy says âWhatâs that now, darling? Did you just say that you didnât think you needed to take time off, because I had? Well, thatâs not strictly true, is it? Iâve taken some time off, and lied about âworking from homeâ for the rest of it, but it would be very nice if you could take a couple of days off too, for us all to have some Super Family Fun!â
Daddy pales. Daddy does not like Super Family Fun. Super Family Fun invariably involves forcing Daddy to go to places where it is both Hot and there are People. Daddy does not like being Hot and he definitely does not like People. Daddy is also aware that any day that involves Super Family Fun will almost certainly end up costing him eleventy billion pounds in snacks and tat and ice-creams that his darling children will immediately decide they no longer want, as soon as he has forked out for them, and that Super Family Fun days invariably end with at least one person crying. If the day has been really, REALLY Fu***ng Super Family Fun, everyone will be crying.
Daddy prevaricates. Daddy speaks at length of how he would love to be able to just take a few days off, but alas, he is Very Busy And Important, and actually, just right now at the moment is the very Busiest And Importantest time in the whole year, and so the world of Busy Importantness simply cannot spare him. Daddy then throws in some emotional blackmail about having to be so Busy And Important to support his family, and sighs in satisfaction at being so clever as to have dodged the Super Family Fun bullet for another set of holidays. Daddy makes a mental note to try arrange some business trips to somewhere in a vastly different time zone for the summer holidays. Mummy mutters darkly.
Daddy gets up and drives to work in his clean and shiny car that the children are not allowed in. Daddy sits in his office and drinks coffee. Some people telephone him, and he concentrates on what they are saying, before doing some Busy and Important Things in peace and quiet. Around midmorning, he goes for a leisurely poo. He definitely doesnât spend any time at all browsing the Autocar and Daily Mail websites, for he is Busy and Important and working very hard. He spends some time thinking about what to have for lunch.
At home, Mummy makes her fifth cup of tea. Mummy is hopeful she might actually get to drink this cup while it is still hot, instead of pouring it down the sink when it is stone cold, because microwaving tea is a barbaric thing to do. The children fight and scream in the background. Mummy tries to do some work, but it is pointless, as every time she opens her computer, the children appear to demand things. Mummyâs boss telephones her. The children shout louder. Mummy says she will call her back. Mummy gives up on working and tries to tidy up instead, but the children follow her around the house, upending each room as she tidies. At one point she goes into the sitting room that she has just tidied up to find a pair of socks and a pair of pants lying in the middle of the floor- why? WHY?
Mummy goes for a quick wee. The children shout outside the door. Mummy shouts back that if no one is actually on fire, could they kindly f**k off. The children admit no one is on fire, but continue to stand outside the door and shout. Mummy stays in the bathroom for several minutes more than she has to and cries a bit, before she finds the strength to come out and face her beloved cherubs.
Eventually, there is no food in the house, for it is the law that in the holidays, the children must be fed approximately every twenty seconds or they will die from hunger, so Mummy puts the children in her grubby car, and drives to the supermarket, still listening to them trying to kill each other in the back seat. Mummy turns up the radio but it is Jeremy Vine. Someone has rung in to insist that National Service should be brought back. Mummy has no idea what the debate is about, but it doesnât really matter, at least one person will ring in every day on Jeremy Vine and demand the return of National Service. Mummy decides listening to the children fighting is less annoying.
The supermarket is Hot, and there are People, but on the way home, the children are briefly quiet, as they are distracted by smearing processed pork products over Mummyâs car and gloating at the tat they managed to brow beat Mummy into buying them. It doesnât last of course, as foolish Mummy also gave them Kinder Eggs and so there is soon a massive fight over whose toy is âbetterâ.
Mummy makes yet another meal, and bathes the darling children and persuades them into bed. After the now obligatory complaints of sore tummies, and other mysterious aches and pains, Mummy issues dire threats towards the next child who ventures out of their bed to demand ANYTHING AT FU***NG ALL from her. Mummy finally sits down with a glass of wine to go through her emails, but gets distracted by catching up on Eastenders on iPlayer.
Daddy comes home and remarks how nice it must be to spend the holidays watching TV. Mummy wonders how secure her browser settings are, and how likely she is to be arrested if she Googles âHitmenâ?
