Toys R Us

Shopping and big girl pants

Today the ‘family’ decided to partake in two of my 127 most upsetting family activities: Going to Reading and shopping. Today we were buying bikes. What friggin joy! After spending over 45 minutes ‘getting ready’ and putting the girls in their ‘big girl pants’ (we are potty training) we piled into the car and headed to Halfords. Picture this: Radio 4. Quietness from the back. A gentle breeze taps my face as I survey the beautiful countryside. And then as my nostrils twitch and slowly expand I catch the stench of shit that has travelled from the back. A pit stop. And we resume our journey. Oh Joy!

I walked into Halfords and decided I didn’t like it one bit. The long and deadly slow walk up the very large staircase to the bike section was a waste of time. Mr Gotmenobrain slowly put down his tyre and shuffled over to us. He smelt of rubber. I grabbed the girls and told them we were leaving. The screams they made as we dragged them down the stairs caused people to stare.

We would go to Toys R Us. As we entered Ruby decided to pee in her pants. We all rushed to the toilets and removed her soiled Peppa pig big girl pants. I stared hard in the mirror as the chaos around me grew louder. And then darted out. It stunk. I told Vivien if she needed the toilet to let us know. She was a big girl now who wore big girl pants. She nodded. We found the bikes. Result.

I took Vivien to pay whilst Carolyn took Ruby back to the toilet again. I watched Vivien play inside the awful primary coloured Wendy houses that I will never allow in my garden. I proudly watched her climb the bright yellow plastic slide and as she slid down mouthed Holy Fuck as I noticed the immense skid mark she left behind her. The smell was causing my mouth to resemble a cats ass. The embarrassment caused a hot flush. I flagged Carolyn and handed Vivien to her. We rushed her to the car. Opened the boot. Realised we had no wipes. Swore. Found some old ones. Closed boot and went home.

I friggin hate shopping, I hate potty training, I hate Reading, and 124 other things I will tell you about in time.

Center Parcs – the arrival

We were sandwiched between two trucks of toddlers. I noticed a small girl in the back seat of her car looking at me shyly. I stared her out and sucked hard at my mint. At last we were waved through by a thin ugly little man in a CP uniform. Thank God I shouted as we slowly drove into a dark forrest. I was about to water the garden when we had to pull in again as a blonde CP attendant tapped at my window and welcomed us to CP. I forced a smile and then she was gone. She returned with our keys and a map showing our lodge. Pine 405. We were to drive to our lodge, unpack, and then take the car to the main car park. Easy.

40 ruddy minutes later we are still searching. We found Pine 404, we found Pine 403, 402, and 406 but where the ruddy hell was Pine 405? This was a joke. We drove round and around the Parc narrowly missing sweaty faced families on their bikes and jogging Mothers pushing prams. I was now about to wet my panties. The girls were hungry and having tantrums. Carolyn wanted to go home. I sucked hard and then Carolyn hit the breaks and I got out. I walked along the road, hissing at the families, dodging bikes and buses and was about to tarzan scream in the face of a midget Chinese lady who gave me a funny look when I found it. Pine 405. We had arrived. Thank Fuck

We parked up and unloaded the girls. They were screaming. Carolyn’s face was florid with rage as I grasped my front bottom and dashed down the path to our lodge. I turned the key. I turned it again. It opened. As I sat on my throne I could hear the commotion outside. For a moment I just wanted to stay here, locked in the toilet. Carolyn screamed my name and I ran back towards the noise and noticed a duck eating a frog. Grotesque little fucker! Did ducks eat meat? I grabbed Ruby and we all headed back to the lodge.

The next 30 minutes was spent unloading the ‘stuff’. Cotbed. Buckets. Spades. Clothes. Food. more food. more clothes. And so on. I walked up and down that bloody path until we were finally in. We arrived at 2pm, it was now 3.30pm. The accommodation was fabulous but we needed to eat and get our bearings. It was time to check out the Parc. And I needed a large, chilled snifter!

Center Parcs – Here We Come

I’ve been up since 5am, it is now 9.30 and still we pack. Our plan is to feed the girls their lunch and then leave. They should sleep in the car. Mother is over from France to house sit and feed cats, in between the clicking of her knitting needles, the nibbling of her Rich Tea biscuits and slurping of Tea. The girls scream in excitement. Carolyn is screaming at the girls. Mother knits. Misty my faithful crusty cat sits on top of the fridge watching the chaos below. I have a bad feeling about this. I wish I was going to ruddy Egypt!

Carolyn’s stop start driving was about to make me puke all over her. My fists were clenched and I sucked furiously on my 3rd xtra strong mint. This journey was long and painful. Thankfully the girls had stopped singing twinkle twinkle and fallen asleep. As we approached Stonehenge we both stared in amazement as the car veered off into the bush. My mint hit the back of my mouth and I choked loudly as I cursed Carolyn for her bad driving. Ten minutes later we arrive and line up behind a ‘family car’ carrying what looks like immigrants and their bikes. I feel sick. The queue into the parc is forever. The girls are awake. Carolyn is still not talking to me and I need a piss.

The road is long…………

Misty – my crusty faithful cat

Picture this. Late last night Misty my crusty faithful cat decided to lick my eye. I rolled over, kicked off the duvet and my big toe found something wet. I disregarded this a fell back to sleep. I awoke to kids screaming. It’s 6am. I jump out of bed and notice the cat vomit on the bed. My big toe is brown. I rush to the girls room and skid on another small brown puddle of vomit. I get up and head to the girls room. Vivien is drowning in snot. Ruby is screaming. My life has become a sea of cat shit, snot, baby poo and vomit. Good morning world!!

Bunting, Piss and the moustached French Lady

Monday 6th August – Bunting, Piss and the moustached French lady

I walked into a nightmare!

The shutter was half open and I had to crawl into the apartment. As I slowly straightened myself I was first hit by the smell. The appalling odour pervading the room reminded me of the shit hole they call a toilet at Jesse’s bar. I gagged for a second and then I saw it, the BUNTING, Euros and Sterling notes hanging from every corner of the apartment. Soggy urine drenched notes which Jolyon was drying off. Why Jolyon had decided to bring over £800 pounds for a 3 day trip I will never know. But right now, it was all hanging around me like Christmas Day.

Jolyon was still in his pit he called a bed. I had to rush to the toilet as my stomach was about to explode. When I returned he was beginning to wake. For a brief second I felt relief knowing he was alive. Then utter disgust! I stood staring at him as his eyes slowly opened. He smacked his lips and surveyed the room. He had woken when I had left to go wine tasting and removed the urine sodden notes from his wallet and hung them around the apartment. He had then resumed his sleep. I kicked him and he sat up. He could not remember anything about last night. He refused to believe he had pissed in the shower but was thoroughly delighted to hear he had beaten Fred the alcoholic in the drinking competition. Unfortunately he also had a rather sicky stomach and before I could say anymore he rushed past me and slammed the toilet door. I heard him groan and then flick the pages of his Classic Car magazine. 15 minutes later he came out grumbling there was no toilet paper and something about a gravy pot. I shuddered and carried my wine into my room.

I lay on the bed and noticed a couple of soggy stinking Euros hanging from my window. I jumped up and pulled them down. I threw them at Jolyon and then washed my hands. I washed them again. And one more time to be safe. I walked into the sitting room and sprayed it with Joe Malone. Two flies fell to the floor. I grabbed my iPad, my mints and told Jolyon we should go pay the bar bill. He said he felt sick but would meet me at the bar after he had showered.

I walked slowly up the road to the bar. I felt rotten. Fred the alcoholic had still not surfaced. Loola the gypsy was at the bar reading a paper and the cough mixture lady was arguing with a small fat woman who had a moustache and dressed like a man. She was smoking Gitanes and the smell made me faint. I moved to a table at the end of the bar and ordered a diet coke. Coco came over and said something. I nodded my head and grinned. I sipped my drink and noticed the man-woman smoking the Gitanes staring at me. I looked up and she gave me a wide grin. Her teeth were black and jagged and I saw bits of food festering in the gaps. I turned away.  I like a lady, but she was something else!!

In Cransac everybody kisses you three times. I did not want this woman coming anywhere near me. The third kiss was the worst. I felt her bristles. She had hairy nostrils and her blue overalls were covered in car oil. She moved back to her table and lit up another Gitanes. I opened up my ipad and felt violated.

I saw his head first, looking out of the shutters like a monkey surveying the land before coming out. He crawled out, closed the shutter and marched towards the bar. I looked at him and was suddenly taken back 30 years to when he was a little boy practising to be a magician. With his top hat, his plastic chicken and wand, he used to run thru the house naked, pouncing on guests like Cato. I hummed the Dad’s Army tune to myself as he approached and could see he was not feeling good.

I suggested we eat something. We both felt sick and had runny bottoms. Jolyon seemed a little pale in colour. He ordered a glass of wine and his colour returned. I also ordered a glass of wine and nearly puked. Only one sleep to go and then home.

Poker, Pastis & Piss (Part 2)

Sunday 5th August – Poker, Pastis & Piss (Part 2)

Our chips were piled high. Our glasses were full. I lost all my money within the hour. Jolyon followed. We cashed in again. We lost again. Coco kept filling our glasses. And I had to keep peeing in that Godforsaken hole down the urine smelling alley. The more I drank, the more I wobbled. My head hit the wall and I tumbled over. As I pressed the flusher the gush of water ran over my toes and swirled down the hole. I swore I would hold it in for the remainder of the evening. I had a red mark on my forehead where I had butted the toilet wall and as I walked down the alley I kicked away the damp tissue that had stuck to my sandal. Jolyon won the next game. His chips were piled high and he suddenly adopted a look I had not seen before. A look of smugness. As if he actually knew what he was doing. He did not. He lost it all and retired. It was getting late and I decided to head back to the apartment. We were going wine tasting tomorrow and I wanted to be on form. I was pissed. But not that pissed. Jolyon remained at the bar with Fred the alcoholic. The cough mixture lady arrived as I was leaving. She ordered a green drink and swigged from her bottle of cough mixture. As I walked home I heard her cough up something quite vile and gob it in the road. I quickened my pace, opened the shutter and climbed over Jolyon’s hovel on the floor and into my room.

As I lay in bed thinking about the women’s volleyball team I had a terrible thought. And then another. I shuddered. Coco had poured Jolyon a Gin as I left. And he didn’t have a key to get in. Merde!

I woke with a start. My eyes had crusted together and for a moment I thought I had lost my sight. There was clearly somebody outside the apartment. Jolyon’s hovel was empty. I turned the key and watched the shutter ascend. In the road was Jesse and a serious looking French man with big muscles and short legs. I thought it was a midget at first. It was raining. I had my old lady off-white knickers on, and a tee-shirt so small you could see my front bottom belly fanny. It was not a look I wanted anybody to see.

I stood at the window waiting as Jesse flicked his roll up and opened the boot of his car. In the light of the moon, I witnessed something so grotesque I had to step back. I came face to face with Jolyon’s hairy little ass. For a brief moment I thought it had come to life, but realised it was just the hairs blowing in the wind. I retched.

It took all three of us to carry him through the shutters and throw him onto his bed. He was clearly Mullered. After a drinking competition with Fred the alcoholic, and having consumed enough shots of pastis to kill a small elephant, Jolyon won. Fred collapsed. Jolyon followed. I prayed the dampness on his trousers was drink and nothing else. I was wrong. His wallet was also wet. I picked it up with some toilet paper and put it on the table. He lay on his side and I watched him. He did not choke and I went to bed. He pissed in the shower at 3am. At 6am his alarm went off. At 6.30am I stood on it. I went back to bed. I awoke with a start and went to check on him. He lay face down. His trousers were around his ankles. I legged it into the shower. I was shaving my legs and singing I Will Survive when I suddenly remembered what he had done in here.

I grabbed my ipad and walked up to the bar for coffee. On route a wasp flew into my hair. The cough mixture lady thought I was fitting and went to get Jesse.   I got to the bar and Jesse gave me the run down of last night. I was not happy.  But that was just the start of it!!