BF texts me from the last night of his tour. He tells me has been talking to the �Principle� of the Academy of Contemporary Mus!c (a man BF is keen to impress). I text back the usual �good for you� stuff with a PS � �Its PRINCIPAL, you doofus. Unless, of course, he really IS a moral rule�.
I go to the library�Ok the shelf of books above the door in the downstairs lav�to check the dictionary definition of �principle�, just in case. As Ive got my �Im not gonna get any sex tonight so I might as well look cack� slippers on, Im a big shorter than usual and have to stand on extra tippy toes to reach the big dictionary. As I pull it off the shelf, the British Book of Hit Singles starts to slide out too. I cant stop it as Im on tippy toes with my free hand braced against the wall for extra leverage (and an extra �� height). The big fat Hit Singles book falls off the shelf. It knocks one of the big wibbly fairground mirrors off the wall. The big wibbly fairground mirror doesn�t break � a) because its made of plastic and b) because it has a soft landing. The corner of the big wibbly fairground mirror imbeds itself in the top of my big, fat, smart arse, point-scoring head before sliding gracefully (but scratchily) down my face and body and onto the floor.
Serves me jolly well right.
Some Stuff About Jooj�s Party
As I mentioned before, Saturday night was Jooj�s MakeoverSleepover (�we love themed parties, don�t we mum!�). Four of her buddies, plus her and Wee Treacle. Three of the buddies had fallen out big time about fifty times in the week prior to the party and Jooj had spent a couple of nights crying that they were going to ruin her party by being horrible to each other but I assured her that they wouldn�t dare and by Saturday she was quite excited.
We went to Lidl and got all the party food then nipped into Chigley to find a video shop so we could rent some DVDs. We don�t have anything cool enough for her friends, apparently. I took along my birth certificate, council tax bill, three credit cards, drivers licence, phial of my blood, DNA profile and letter from my mum so that there wouldn�t be any problems with starting up one of those rental contract thingies you need � with the little plastic Bl0ckbuster card and everything. As it was, we needed pretty much all of that (except the drivers licence obviously) before they�d let me rent anything at all, but we finally got through it all and while I was having the full body-cavity search, Jooj went off to find a film.
Jooj (calling): �Muuuuum. They haven�t got the ones I want�
Mum: *sigh* (for the possibility of a wasted journey and unnecessary anal probe) �Ask the man, sweetie. Maybe you just didn�t find them yet.�
Jooj (to counter clerk) ��kayy. Excuse me, I�d like some films please and I cant find them�
Blockbusterboy: �Yeh. And what. Did. You. Want?� (the patronising little fucker)
Jooj: �I�d like Wayne�s World and Bill and Ted, please�
Blockbusterboy (stepping back in amazement) �Cooooool�.
They didn�t have Bill & Ted but Blockbusterboy found Wayne�s World (out the back, under a pile of paperwork, with the other films that just aren�t �now� enough for the good people of Chigley).
On our way back to the car, after getting lost again in Chigley�s TWO streets, we passed a clothes shop with some cool clothes in the window. Ooops. 10 minutes later, Jooj has a top, a dress, some leggings and a pair of earrings. I have an aching credit card but don�t need to think about what to get her for her birthday any more.
Back home to do the cake. I make a fucking lovely Victoria sponge. This one was eighty feet tall (it WAS, check out the photo in the last entry. It looks smaller, obviously, but that�s because Jooj is so big). Frosted white, with tiny multicoloured stars sprinkled on and a gold ribbon around the outside (Awww, mum! Its LUVVVleeeee).
When the buddies arrive � with their sleeping bags and their teddies and their glittery party shoes and their toothbrushes and their clothes-for-tomorrow and all the other crap that girlies carry with them for ONE NIGHT � we set up the big theatrical mirror (the one my uncle the set designer nicked from Fraggle Rock, yeh? Remember?) in the kitchen. The giant box of makeup is opened like a pirate�s treasure chest to squeals and oohs and aaahs.
Thus commenceth the makeup lesson. We go for SuperGlam. Proper shading, blending, highlighting etc. The buddies all say their mums don�t show them how to put on makeup. Stepfie retains her place at the top of the CoolMum tree by showing them an easy way to put on eyeliner without poking yourself in the eye or going all wobbly. We give some thought to lipstick to co-ordinate with our outfits BUT ALSO TO SUIT OUR SKIN TONE (as they all dived for the fuchsia glittery stuff!). They helped each other a bit, and I helped a bit, and they did their own a bit and they al looked FAB-U-LOUS.
No pictures, sorry. Took loads, of course, but a bit squibbly about putting pics of other peoples pre-teens up on the web when they�re all dolled up to the nines. Not that any of YOU lot are kiddyfiddlers, Im sure, but there�s some funny people about, int there.
Apart from that, they are all fugly little spuds compared to my own beauteous offspring and it just wouldn�t be fair on the poor dears.
After the make-up, we send them all into the sitting room, give them a selection of musical instruments and get them to mime along to Sk8ter Boi and Year 3000 while we take �Rock band� pics. Heeeeee! We printed them off later in the evening and put them in the party bags for them to take home.
Then its pizza time and DVD time. One of the buddies has brought a selection of girly crud to watch which I was hoping to not have to confiscate in favour of something more suitable, but at the bottom of the pile was Freaky Friday! YAY! We�d forgotten about that one when we were in Blockbuster.
They watched that and ate pizza and drank 7-Up and ate popcorn and sweets and crisps and garlic bread and more sweets and birthday cake and more popcorn and more crisps.
Then I sent them all upstairs to wash their makeup off (Im SOOOO responsible, I hope you�re impressed. I even gave a little lecture on �if you�re grown up enough to wear it, you have to be grown up enough to take it off properly�. This from the woman who will build up coats of mascara over, oooh, weeks, before eventually realising she now just has four REALLY BIG thick eyelashes and then picks it all off at work whilst chatting to Slave and starts again. *shakes head at sluttiness of self*), get their jammies on and BRUSH YOUR TEETH, YOU SKANKY BUNCH OF GYPPOES.
We set out all the sleeping bags and mattresses and sofa cushions and stuff in the sitting room, in a refugee-camp stylee and they all got into bed to watch some other horrific Lyndsay Lohan epic � not sure what it was but it was truly dreadful � and then we left them to it.
Me and BF in the kitchen with some left over pizza and a few beers. Bliss.
Eventually we went to bed. Upstairs we had crazyQUIETmonkeysex and lay in each others arms listening to the giggling and chattering and�..FART NOISES? It was 1 o�clock. I got up and went to investigate. BF followed. The cream of Year 6 were conducting a contest n the best �arm-fart� noises. Jessie was winning and gave us a run-down on her technique (�Lick your inside elbow bit til its really slobbery, then wrap your arm round your face and blow really flappily� � try it! It works!).
BF: Haha very funny. OK Guys, its time you were asleep now.
Girls: OK. Goodnight.(much snuggling in sleeping bags)
BF and Stepfie turn to go
PPPHHHRRRRUUUP � giggle giggle giggle
Stepfie: haha. We mean it. Go to sleep. You�ll all feel like death in the morning.
Girls: Sorry. Yes. We�re sleeping now. Look we�re asleep.
THRRRRUUUUWWWWPPH � giggle giggle giggle
PHHRUP
PURRRMMMP
TRWWRRREEEPPPUUUUR
BF & Stepfie: ��..BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! You little sods.
We went back to bed.
At 4.20 I got up and told them if they didn�t let me get some sleep I would not be able to make them any breakfast in the morning. They slept. I went back to bed. BF was snoring like a tractor with a big fat hole in its exhaust. *sigh*
In the morning they all had the good grace to look abso-fucking-lutely wasted. Im kinda used to no sleep so I was pretty chirpy (especially at the thought of them all going home) and not grumpy or at all like I normally am when its just me and MY kids!
Restored the little beasts to their former glory with the aid of toast and hot chocolate and muffins and fruit and cereal and yoghurt and juice and then they all fucked off home. Yay
While I was loading the dishwasher, Jooj sneaked up behind me and put her arms round my waist. She laid her face on my shoulder blade. �That was the coolest party. Thanks mum.�
I think one of the little bastards must have given me a bit of a cold cos my eyes went all prickly then and I had to go and blow my nose.
Oh, and in the afternoon I fucked up my hair REALLY badly, but you knew that already!
S
x
PS Finally finished the action points from last weeks meeting and sent them off to Toast for approval. Two minutes later I got an email back �These are excellent. Thank you�. I nearly cried. Actually I might have, a little bit, but I don�t think anyone saw.
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