Archive for the 'AAARGHH! GET ME OUT OF HERE!!' Category

The Creator

Ah, half term holidays: a time when the girls can take not-getting-ready-in-the-morning in all kinds of new and exciting directions.

The following conversation took place this morning, Nicola at the bottom of the stairs, the girls in their bedroom after some 30 minutes or so of “getting ready”:

Nicola: Girls, are you ready yet?
Lauren: Er… nearly!
Nicola: Come on you two! Get dressed!
Lauren: [in cod American accent] Sure mommy, whatever the creator of my life says!

This was around half an hour ago and they’re still in their pyjamas. I’d better go and jog them on a bit or there’ll be hell to pay when the Crucible of Life finds out.

Farewell, 2009

Farewell then, 2009. Next year the girls hit double figures and turn 10, the age at which children generally (so we’re told) stop putting marshmallows up their noses.

I’m not sure if I’m feeling relieved or nostalgic right now.

How do you solve a problem like this?

8:05am. As tradition requires, the girls have been reminded/politely asked/told/commanded about a thousand times to get dressed. Hannah is now dancing around the room in the nude, singing “How Do You Solve A Problem Like Naked?” in a trill operatic style.

My friends, I fear all hope is lost.

24 Angry Chocolates

There’s been a fascinating and seasonal legal case developing at home this month which I thought you might like to hear about. The case was brought by Lauren (“the Plaintiff”) and facing her across the courtroom is the formidable legal mind of Hannah (“the Defence”). Sitting in session is Judge Dad. The case concerns two chocolate advent calendars purchased by the Plaintiff and the Defence in November 2008.

The substance of the Plaintiff’s case is that, subsequent to the purchase of the two calendars, it was discovered that the Plaintiff’s calendar (Milky Bar-themed) has only 24 doors, whilst the Defence’s calendar (High School Musical) has 25. The Plaintiff is therefore requesting an extra chocolate on 25 December to address this shortcoming.

The Defence’s argument (presented in the most robust of terms) is that this is “well not fair”, since both calendars were selected through free choice and in the absence of duress. The Defence finds it plainly unacceptable that the Plaintiff should subsequently request special treatment in respect of circumstances which, it might reasonably be argued, she brought entirely on herself.

The Judge, after careful deliberation and consultation with his judicial colleague Judge Mum, ruled in favour of the Plaintiff and ordered the court to obtain a packet of Cadbury’s Chocolate Buttons and distribute one such to the Plaintiff on 25 December.

The Defence leapt to its feet to object but was swiftly overruled by Judge Dad who was running late for work.

However, subsequent investigations carried out by the Defence as part of the appeals process have revealed an intriguing twist which was not disclosed to the court at the time of the original case. Looking at the back of each calendar it was discovered that the Plaintiff’s (24-door) calendar has a net weight of 85g, whilst the Defence’s (25-door) calendar has a net weight of only 80g. The Defence has therefore mounted a dramatic counterclaim, stating that not only should the original ruling in favour of the Plaintiff be overturned, but it should be reversed, with the award now directed towards the Defence.

There followed unruly scenes, during which the Judge was obliged to clear the court.

The Plaintiff is currently preparing its appeal case and is thought to be considering a “well not fair” plea: controversial, to say the least, in light of the line taken in its original prosecution.

The Judge is currently ensconced in his chambers, searching the Internet for one-way tickets to Mexico.

A tale of two pennies

From Lauren at tea-time tonight:

Imagine if you had two rabbits, yeah, and they were both called Penny, and you were dropping one of them off at the train station, right, and then her owner said, “Let’s go and pick up Penny,” but you thought she meant Penny the pasta!!

It turns out she was referring to penne. Hannah laughed so hard she almost choked.

It’s that time of year again

December fever is upon us. It barely seems a couple of months since last Christmas but as I type, the girls are dancing round the landing shrieking a song they just made up that appears to be called “It’s Four More Days Till Christmas.”

Today is the 3rd of December. They’re supposed to be going to bed.

The next 22 days are what makes or breaks a man. Wish me luck.

April Fools Day

This year’s April Fools’ Day prank:

1000... would be several too many

Unfortunately I forgot to blog it until 2 April. Still… erm… April Fool!

Recorders

The girls got recorders for Christmas. They’re both downstairs abusing them now.

So far they have only learnt one note: that piercing one you get when you blow too hard with all holes uncovered.

Shriek! Shriek! Shriek-shriek-shriek!

Mike Oldfield this ain’t. I am approaching the point of despair.

A word from the wise: if your children ever come into posession of recorders, buy ear muffs or leave home.

Are you feeling dizzy yet?

Happy New Year everyone! I hope your Christmas was as joyous but not quite as mindlessly hyperactive as ours. :-)

The girls and I went to our local park yesterday, where they’ve installed a whole load of new play equipment. One of Hannah and Lauren’s favourites is one of those tyres hanging on chains. They had a go with their friend Thomas and I rather recklessly decided to stand in the middle and film them going round me with my cameraphone. I ended up getting dizzy and falling over. Here’s the footage!

Health warning: you should probably not watch this while eating or handgliding.

Are you feeling dizzy yet?

Mouse infestation

We appear to have a serious mouse infestation this morning. Worse still, there’s no sign of the costumes we just finished making for Lauren and Hannah’s school play, The Night Before Christmas.

A mouse problem Definitely a mouse problem

Does anyone have any tips for dealing with this kind of pest issue, especially when they start striking poses in front of cameras?

Grease: the fall-out starts here

I knew this whole Grease thing was a bad idea.

Hannah and Lauren are having an unexpected day off today due to a burst water main at school. We’ve also brought one of their class mates home with us, so I’m working upstairs while the three girls play in the living room.

I just went to check on them and, of course, they are watching Grease. Their friend bounded across the room and grabbed my hand.

“Mark! Mark!” she shouted, “Isn’t it right that you need to have sex to have a baby?”

Hannah and Lauren looked on with wide-eyed curiosity.

“Erm… what… well…” I explained.

“My mummy told me,” she continued. “I know what having sex is, but don’t worry, I won’t tell them.”

I have now escaped to the spare room upstairs where I’m sitting with the door closed, typing this and planning my next move. Frankly, I’m terrified. They’re only six! This is all Travolta’s fault. Would sex have reared its ugly head if they’d been watching Wallace and Gromit? Of course not.

Oh hell, someone’s coming up the stairs. Perhaps I can climb out of the window and make my escape? Help!!

Orange cards (and other World Cup FAQs)

I’ve just sat through a pretty uninspiring first half between Poland and Ecuador with Hannah and Lauren – the girls’ first exposure to international football. I would liken the experience to trying to pay attention to the first 45 minutes of a corporate fraud trial with a bag of angry wasps in your pocket. I managed to miss Ecuador’s only goal because Hannah decided at that precise moment that she needed to take my photograph.

To be fair, though, they were pretty attentive and most of the distractions came from football-related questions. Here are just a few that I was called upon to resolve using my expert football knowledge.

Q: Why are lots of the football players little children?
A: It’s only the grown-ups that are footballers. The little boys just come on at the start to sing for a bit then they go off again.

Q: Why is that man holding his heart? Is he poorly?
A: No, he’s singing his national anthem so it’s a bit like he’s saluting.

Q: Why is that goalkeeper running around and playing football and not staying in the goal?
A: That isn’t the goalkeeper, he’s called the referee.

Q: What’s a referee?
A: He’s like the teacher. He makes sure that everybody’s playing nicely.

Q: Is England the ones in white or the ones in yellow and blue and red?
A: Neither, England play tomorrow. This is Poland in white and Ecuador in yellow.

Q: Are Brazil playing?
A: No, just Poland and Ecuador.

Q: What was the goalkeeper holding up then?
A: He’s the referee, sweetheart. It was a yellow card, which means somebody’s been naughty, like tripping someone up. If you get two yellow cards then you have to go off. Or if you’re really really really naughty he shows you the red card and you’ve got to go off straight away.

Q: Do we want Poland to win or the other ones?
A: We don’t mind really. But hey, who will we want to win tomorrow??
Q: Brazil?
A: No, England! [slightly peevishly - we must have been through this a million times now]

Q [about 10 minutes later]: Is there an orange card?
A: No, just red and yellow.
Q: So what happens if someone’s really really naughty?
A: They get the red card and they have to go off.
Q: I thought the red card was for really really really naughty?
A [after long thoughtful pause]: There’s just red and yellow, Hannah.

Q: Why does the goalkeeper wear those big gloves?
A: Because he’s the only one who’s allowed to touch the ball with his hands. [This rash assertion was successfully challenged during a subsequent throw-in.]
Q: So the rest can’t touch it with their hands?
A: No, otherwise they’ll get a yellow card. [Is it yellow or red? I'm past caring.]
Q: What if they touch it with their legs?
A: That’s fine, legs are OK. And heads, and chests. In fact they can touch it with any part of their body except their arms and hands.
Q: Any part?
A: Except their arms and hands.
[There is sniggering]
Q: Even their widgies?
A: No, I think that might hurt. Just watch.

Q: Daddy, what’s the off-side rule?
A: Oh look, girls, bed time!

OK, I made up the last one but I swear the rest are genuine. 2 matches down, only 62 to go…

Tricks

I got a text message last night from my brother Simon (pictured above). Simon is dad to 9-year-old Beti who has been mentioned elsewhere on this blog.

Beti just suggested I phone you, put on a silly voice and say “Hello, I’m phoning about that mustard you ordered.” She’s been giggling ever since.

It sounds like the makings of a classic practical joke to me! But it also has me thinking, rather dauntedly, about the future combined forces of Hannah and Lauren at that age. The signs are not good. Their 5-year-old arsenal of trickery already includes:

  • Ultra-realistic pretending to be asleep in the car, then yelling suddenly when you go to pick them up. I swear, if De Niro was to spend a year immersing himself into the role of Guy Asleep In Car he could not hope to achieve the kind of authenticity we see (and fall for) on a regular basis.
  • “There’s a bee on your nose!” (Taken from the book I Can Trick A Tiger)
  • Assembling a small-girl-shaped pile of toys in their beds then creeping up behind you when you go in to tuck them in.
  • Opposite Land: an advanced version of the traditional twin swap routine where Hannah is Lauren, Mummy is Daddy, good means bad, up means down, and so on, and vice versa. Trust me, it messes with your head.

Once they gain Beti’s level of sophistication I suspect there will be no limit to their evil.

Alarm clocks? Where we’re going we don’t need alarm clocks!

There was a raging debate going on in our bed at 7 o’clock this morning. It went something like this:

Hannah: I’m Darth Vader! RAAAARRGGHHH!!! (Note: this is a Darth Vader who wears a nightie and roars like a tiger. No heavy breathing required.)

Parents “shriek” with “fright”.

Lauren: I’m Barbie!

Parents sigh with relief.

Hannah: I’m Darth Vader!!

Lauren: No-o! I’m Darth Vader now!

Hannah: OK.

Lauren: I’m Darth Vader!! RAARGGHHHHH!!!

Shriek!

Hannah: I’m Darth Vader!! RAA…

Lauren: No! You’re Barbie!

Hannah: But I want to be Darth Vader!

Simultaneously:
Lauren: Mummy, Hannah won’t be Barbie!
Hannah: Daddy, it’s my turn to be Darth Vader!

And so on, forever. It’s funny how quickly we can be out of bed some days.

Striking while the iron’s hot

The girls are cock-a-hoop today because the dinner ladies’ strike means they can take lunch boxes to school… with eggy sandwiches. We’ve been resisting the pressure to switch from hot dinners to packed lunches for over a year now. Our argument is that making packed lunches takes time and will make us (even) late(r) for school in the mornings. Countering this is Hannah and Lauren’s considered position that but… but… but X takes packed lunches, and so does Y, and even Z doesn’t have hot dinners any more, and we’ve got pink lunch boxes with pictures of princesses on them, and awhh, it’s not fair!

You can see how finely balanced this thing is.

We’re expecting a full-on assault at home time tonight, with stories of how much fun they had, and how healthy they feel, and how honesly, the eggy sandwiches haven’t made them parp any more that usual. It’s going to be tough. Any suggestions for a counter-attack will be welcome, but please make it quick.