Friday, August 17, 2007


I haven't been doing much painting these days, just this for a friend, because I've been here at our holiday home these past 6 weeks and in France for two weeks before that. The weather has been pretty miserable, 10 minutes rain followed by 10 minutes sun. Are you sure this is not April instead of August and someone forgot to tell me?

My Mother sent me this text yesterday

Will b down early Fri. B ready 2 go. I will leave Mon b4 lunch. Talk 2 u n few days.

Now that's the kind of text I like.

My lovely, kind, considerate, caring, cool, elegant, well dressed, beautiful Mother is arriving tomorrow morning to take over my place here while I zip home for a romantic weekend with The Husband. Where we can eat meals which little faces don't scrunch up their noses at and say YUCK. Where we can drink bottles and bottles of wine after breakfast in bed and speak full sentences without being interrupted by high pitches hysterical voices screaming ' LOOK, LOOK. SHE DUG HER NAILS INTO MY SKIN AND SCRAPED ME ALL THE WAY DOWN MY FACE'


I love my children, but a man and woman need their space now and then. At least I do in order that I will not have to beg my Doctor for a renewable prescription for Prozac.

Now I'm wondering when I return on Monday whether I'll find my mother with all the above adjectives still pertaining to her or if she'll have pulled every hair out of her bouffant beehive hairdo.

I was going to text back

Kids can't wait to see you. They will be no trouble, out playing with their friends all day.

But that would be a lie and because I know you read this website sometimes and you always taught me to tell the truth, here it is Mum. The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth;

they will require you to repeat 3 times sentences like 'GET DRESSED' and look very startled, surprised and shocked if you raise your voice even the slightest on the third try.

they will make you feel like a child abuser as you brush their hair every morning.

they will want their dinner which they won't like15 minutes after lunch which they wouldn't eat.

they will return for you to change their clothes 2/3 times per day with mud splashes up their backs from cycling through the puddles on the wet roads around here

they will spill any drink you give them

they will want to swim even when it is raining

they will be hard to find when you want to put them to bed; you'll have to search all 150 vans to find them.


On the other hand they might just behave a little better with my Mother because, and only because, she is not me and they may play my favourite game of theirs which entails spending hours and hours searching for pretty, colourful and unusual items that they use to create a floating world in a tub.

Having done that, they swap their finds for another couple of hours and if all goes well and they don't begin pelting each other with pink crystals or ladybirds clinging for dear life onto leaves she'll get a couple of uninterrupted hours to herself so she can think about why she ever offered to put herself in this position in the first place and the best excuses she can use in the future in order that she never, ever finds herself in this situation again. EVER

I love my Mum

1 comment:

editor said...

i would love an update on how the weekend went for your mother.