Tomorrow I wake at 5 and get to Gatwick and board an easyjet flight bound for sunshiny Marrakesh. There is not much to say about how excellent that is. You will just have to imagine.
So I am packing and wondering what to wear and fretting a little, and hoping that the boys will be ok, fed, watered and put to bed on time-ish while I am away. I hope their dad doesn’t go too mental when they break stuff and scream and draw vampire bats instead of doing subtraction equations.
Things that I fear may break my husband:
1. The baby has found a sneaky way to the nobs on the boiler and has been ‘playing’ with them by ‘removing’ them and now we have a boiler only works if you whack it. We have built a complicated system of washing-dryer-racks around the boiler to thwart the baby from his mission, but it seems in vain. He is stealthy like a cat.
2. The children have no respect for rugby matches. Apparently there is an important game on this weekend, but these things can only be enjoyed if the children want to let you enjoy them. And they are so fond of Nickelodeon. I know who will win this one.
3. I overheard him telling them that they will do some cooking together. HA! If only he knew how small curious fingers (which always feel a little bit wet and suspicious) and cooking utensils/bags of flour/hot ovens Do Not Mix. There will be a few trips to Burger King, I think.
4. The mornings which have to begin at 6:15am. This requires a strong will and a deep fear of getting to school late. I am the only one who has these characteristics.
5. The subtle differences in the packed lunches (salami in one, peanut butter and jam in the other, one kid hates yoghurt, the other is revolted by pears, etc etc) the uniforms, the whereabouts of the socks, the way to turn on the washing machine, the biodegradable rubbish bags which break all over you when you hoist them out of the bin.
And on and on, to infinity and beyond.
Anyway, here are some photos of Waddesdon Manor and the children running amok at the park and autumnal things like that: