My mother has come to stay for a few days. It’s her birthday any minute and we’ve all ensured we will be together here so that she doesn’t feel too miserable about having to spend it without her husband for the first time in 47 years, who about now would be ringing me to say, “what shall I buy your mother for her birthday?”. She arrived a little more traumatised than usual after a quick visit to see her mother in the nursing home en route to me who said to her “what on earth are you doing here? I’m going to have you arrested for breaking and entering”.
Teenage son cost me a total fortune yesterday because his car had to go to the garage – he’d been saying for quite a long time that it wasn’t starting properly and that other various things were wrong, but when I properly focused on it yesterday and said “what EXACTLY is the problem with your car” he said “the brakes don’t work”. Shit. Not good. Sort of happy to pay astronomical amounts of money when you think of the alternatives had he continued driving a car that doesn’t stop around the streets of London.
He doesn’t appear to be doing any work whatsoever for his A levels, which is quite worrying. I know he is, but wonder if it’s happening either by osmosis or perhaps, when I think he’s playing Football Manager or Call of Duty, or texting constantly or Facebooking his friends, maybe what’s actually happening is that little teeny weeny notes are coming through the ether and he is testing himself in chemical formulas and maths equations.
My daughter is happy and working hard but majorly distracted by a party on Friday. Such application to the cause. A number of them are going as characters from “The Only Way Is Essex”. A perfect excuse to spend hours pouring over ASOS online dresses – to which all I am able to say virtually to every single one she shows me is “surely that is not actually a dress, it’s a bit too short don’t you think? Seems to be more space where the dress should be than actually dress itself”….sort of stuff. She’s off for a spray tan after school today to go TOP orange no doubt and has been on a strange Curly Kale diet for two days now which appears to involve eating revolting green stuff all day long. I am insisting she adds other things as apparently when she was away once and did the same diet for a week she got the shakes. She is eating a bowl of Ben & Jerry’s frozen yoghurt chocolate fudge (which completely tastes like ice cream I think and no hardship whatsoever) when she gets back from school “because if I don’t have some sugar I get depressed”. Then a number of her girlfriends are coming round tomorrow to get ready AND she’s booked my lovely sister in law to do hair and makeup. God. Scary stuff. Guaranteed these 15 year olds will look 25. I’ll have to show you pictures.
Youngest son after a blip here and there is happy to be back at school. He’s captain of cricket (yay for him – boo for me – lots of sitting around for 5 hours being bored watching small boys in nylon trousers stand about – it doesn’t improve as they get older either). He’s also been asked to join the Athletics Club and he was very hopeful that it was because he might be asked to run – “I hope it’s for the running, but I think they want me to do something called Shot Put – what’s that?”. Oh dear. I didn’t have the heart to tell him. Just a flash of Fatima Whitbread popped into my head.
I’m just off to teach three classes in a row this morning. I’m covering for someone else. Think I might die.
