Merry Christmas

Christmas Day Morning (belated)

As I sit alone in a sea of cardboard and wrapping paper the gentle breeze of Misty my faithful yet crusty cat’s stench breath assaults my nostrils and forces a quick but lethal sneeze! As I leap from the sofa clutching my front bottom and cursing loudly I trip on my Ped Egg hard skin remover! It’s not even 10am yet chaos surrounds me. Misty stinks. Carolyn is ill and I am in need of a Bloody Mary. I love this life! Merry Christmas darlings xxxx

Day 1. Home alone with the Ninjas.

Monday 9th June 2014

Day one of looking after my twin girls (age 3) solo. My partner has fecked off to Toronto for a weeks business. I am alone and shitting the proverbial brick. My saving grace – NURSERY.

I am awoken at 5am by a sound so alien I fear my children are being throttled. I sit to attention, throw my duvet to the side, and see Misty my faithful yet crusty cat fly through the air and land on my pants. She gives me evils and canters out of the room. The noise continues. I jump off the bed and fly into the girls room ready to face the fucker who is throttling them. There is nobody in there causing them harm. Instead my two sweaty girls are standing in their cots crying for their ruddy milk. But not crying like we know it, this is wailing and squealing. I place my hands over my ears and count slowly. I open my eyes, remove hands from ears and still they shout. I manage to herd them both into my bedroom and into my bed. The TV is turned on and some godforsaken early morning children’s programme starts. All is now quiet as I creep downstairs to feed the cats and make up some milk for the girls.

The frothy vomit with two blades of grass floating upon it greeted me at the bottom of the stairs. I trod in it. The second puddle was just outside the kitchen. I trod in it. I hopped into the kitchen cursing the furry fuckers and prepared my tea, the milk and fed Misty and Scruffy. Misty is my most faithful yet crusty cat. Scruffy is mentally ill, but manages to get by. The stench from the cat food made me retch. I washed my hands with an OCD passion until raw and continued with the jobs ahead.

As the girls guzzled their milk I sipped my tea and stroked Misty. Her purr became deep and I felt her eyes upon me. I pushed her away, dressed the girls, dressed me, had breakfast, dropped off girls, made coffee. Alas there was no watching Jezza Kyle this morning as I had things to do.

Today I was to help out my mate Cath who is holding a sale of designer clothes in our local Tapas bar. My instructions were to meet her at 09.30am to collect the stock. Deliver to Tapas Bar. Sell stock. Make money. Give some to charity.

I arrived a little early and knocked on the door. A lady came to the door and announced Cath had not arrived. I was to wait in my car. As I sat back in the front seat I gazed upon a short stocky elderly lady on the pavement, as she approached the passenger side of my car I noticed the mother of all Bumble Bees walking down my arm. In a fit of epilepsy and torrettes I screamed utter filth whilst I threw myself out of the passenger side door rolling onto the pavement, and patting my arm furiously whilst screaming obscenities. The bee finally ejected itself from my shirt. As I took control of myself I noticed that little old lady looking quite pale. I think she may have also ejected her morning breakfast! I gave a little grin as if to say, silly old me, and leapt back into the car.

Cath arrived. She too was a little pale having been on the booze since yesterday lunchtime. From the stench of her breath I would say she had guzzled many a bottle of Pinot, about 60 Silk Cut and some meat:) After a short sleep she had been to the surgery for a blood test that was most probably 100% wine and was now holding back the retch. She was not well. Les (another helper) had also arrived and we all marched in to collect the stock.

As we set up the clothes I fed Cath water and Bacon Sandwiches to ease the hangover. Les and Cath managed to do 99.9% of the setting up as I tried things on, took things off, looked at myself in the mirror, and generally farted about. Retail aint my thing! I offered to teach the girls some Latin American dancing but then realised I didn’t know how to do it. My feet hurt at 11.30 and I was seriously worried as to why nobody had turned up yet. Cath informed me that the sale did not start until 11.30am. I see.

The day went well I think. I left the girls at 3pm. Cath still a little shaky, and Les still pricing up.

As I hobbled back home with my new bright pink cashmere thingy wrapped around my neck I wondered if that little lady I saw this morning had pood herself with fright? I do hope not. I walked along the river and past my old flat. I hummed a tune and then realised I could hear deeper humming coming from a bush with wasps. I ducked and dived as I power walked passed. Trying to look sane and normal, but in actual fact, looking like a rather drunk midget with a hip problem.

Home at last. I fed the cats again and then off to collect girls from nursery.

As I sit here typing all is quiet. After much screaming and shouting I finally managed to get them to bed at 7.15pm. By 7.16pm I had a snifter in hand and a bowl of olives.