DISASTERS ALL ROUND

My house is a mess and the Christmas chaos hasn’t even begun. My mother is here. Therefore my daughter is sleeping in the sitting room. My son’s girlfriend is staying and so are Builder Bloke’s three kids. Chaos. Like the roads. The airways. The trains. Everything that generally allows families to get together at Christmas time. I bet we all know people who are stuck somewhere they don’t want to be. How many families are going to be separated this Christmas by the snow. Sad. WHY can Iceland deal with the snow and we can’t? My daughter said “we need underfloor heating for runways”. VERY GOOD IDEA don’t you think?

My friends have finally arrived in the UK via Iceland today. Bizarre to think that when I left them from Australia in March this year I got diverted back to Dubai because of an ash cloud in Iceland. Now, because of a snow cloud in London, they got diverted to Iceland. On the day we thought they would arrive, pre snow drama, a friend and I thought we’d be helpful by picking up the keys to the house they are renting and putting a little bit of food there in advance. We dutifully did the above and waited for their arrival. It didn’t happen. Today, when they got here I handed them the keys only to realise one set is missing – we have somehow managed to lose one of their keys and so they can’t get into the main bedroom and now don’t have enough space or enough beds. What a disaster.

I rang Builder Bloke – he’s good at things like that. “Just tell them to kick the bloody door down” he said. Typical. Surprised he didn’t suggest blowing the whole thing up. Why are all his solutions so dramatic?

Anyway, they’re not going to do that. They’re going to cope. I now feel REALLY bad. I have just got back from a lovely curry with them and lots of our lovely friends only to find that having left my mother in charge of babysitting duties – my teenage son is upstairs with his girlfriend and my daughter and ten year old son have been making vodka jellies in preparation for my son’s 18th birthday party tomorrow night (no beer kegs included).

We’ve finally got our Christmas tree up. Why does it always have to include so many arguments? My youngest must have stomped upstairs at least three times. Still, at least my teenage son didn’t say that he thought it looked like someone had thrown up all over it this year. Progress.

Daughter and I were out shopping today and she spent most of it listing things she wanted. I have a huge email from her with links attached. She wants a new mascara. The one that vibrates. However, as we were in a relatively quiet shop she announced very loudly “MY VIBRATOR HAS STOPPED – CAN YOU BUY ME A NEW ONE PLEASE?”. Good grief.

My youngest son has injuries. A sore shoulder from throwing too many snowballs and a mouth that makes him look like Homer Simpson. He was encouraged by my brother and daughter yesterday to suck on a tube he was fiddling with. He has given himself a sort of blood blister around his mouth. Disastrous. He had to wear make-up today in order to stop everybody laughing at him.