Diary of a Mummy Misfit #1 (39 page)

Just goes to show how we make judgments on outward appearances, but we just never know what’s going on under the surface.

Jealous of me!

Wednesday 17
^th
December

After much discussion and careful deliberation last night, Ned and I sent a courteous acknowledgment of Gestapo’s apology - even wishing her a happy Christmas.

Fenella scoffed when I read it to her and said that she wouldn’t have been quite so charitable.  “All she’d have got from me would have been ‘Bugger off, Saddo, and start thinking about the starving kids in Africa’.  That bitch needs a bit of perspective in her life, I reckon.”

Definitely not a career in diplomacy for Fenella!

Thursday 18
^th
December

Have now finally decided on three 101’s and have sorted my props.  Not even discussing it with Ned because I know, with all his careful planning, he’ll still leave it all to the last minute and then run around like a blue-arsed fly frantically looking for props and trying to get me involved when all I want to do is get ready.

Took Max to the supermarket to do the bulk of the Christmas food and booze shop. All we need to get on Christmas Eve now is the fruit, veg and meat.  Received a rather nice cheque to help with the celebrations from the ‘High Powereds’ last week so that made it all a lot easier.  Don’t feel guilty for taking it because it’s really their turn and, anyway, they can afford it.

Dropped off a couple of bits Mrs S had asked me to get her and found Skunk in a pinny having lesson No 5 in the art of pickle making.  He looked up with a “Hi Libby” and then, proudly putting his heavily tattooed arm around his mentor’s shoulder, announced “Ba and I are now partners.  Managed to convince ‘er not to take a business loan.  She’s used ‘er profits from the fair and I’ve matched it with my Nan’s money.  Got a mate to knock us up a website so we should be up and running in no time - if I ever get the ‘ang of chilli dissection, that is.”  His eyes were red raw and streaming having forgotten the fundamental rule of not touching them before washing his hands.  Mrs S swiped him jokily with her tea-towel and called him a silly monkey.

Left ‘Ba’s Kitchen’ in full swing and settled Max down to watch a Christmas DVD in my bedroom while I did the usual attack on my wardrobe to find something suitable for a Room 101 night.  Decided on black and gold embroidered bustière (gives me a good cleavage) and black velvet trousers (very slimming).

Sure Paul Merton would approve but, more importantly, Mum won’t be able to comment on how fat I look when she turns up to babysit.

Friday 19
^th
December  AM

Ned’s 41
^st
.

Max woke me at five o’clock insisting that we go downstairs and start on Ned’s surprise breakfast.  Ned heard every word but did an Oscar winning performance of feigning sleep and I managed to coax Max in for a cuddle and another hour’s kip.

Tiptoed downstairs at six and began our breakfast preparations.  Max laid out the table with Ned’s cards and presents (the budget eventually ran to a home-made pen pot from Max, a CD from me and a box of Maltesers from the dogs).  He then put Dog and Dot’s red bandanas around their necks - a tradition now in the Marchant household for special occasions.  Not considered as ‘clothes,’ because they’re just like an extra collar, and nowhere near as ridiculous as a hoodie or tutu.

Ned acted surprised like a true pro when he came into the kitchen and tucked heartily into his full English - only day of the year he ever gets it!  Don’t do Domestic Goddess in the mornings I’m afraid.

Max didn’t think it was fair that his Daddy had to work on his birthday but I whispered to him that it meant we could get on with his birthday cake for tonight.  And, as he wouldn’t be at F&J’s when Daddy blew out the candles, we could make an extra cake for a tea party when Ned got back from work.

The birthday boy set off with a belly full of fry-up saying he needed to go through his final list for tonight and, if he emailed me, would I sort his props out for him.  Predictable, or what?

PM

Ned had been too busy to email me his prop list so he did his usual last minute frantics - only this time he enlisted Max’s help because he’d decided he wanted to keep his list top-secret from me.  Heard a great deal of giggling going on in Max’s bedroom during their search.

Eventually left for F&J’s, clutching our hidden props in carrier bags and with Mum saying, “Shouldn’t you have a polo neck on under that top?  Your bosoms will catch their death!”

Saturday 20
^th
December

Another ridiculous time had by all last night.  You can learn an awful lot about people on a Room 101 night.

We were fed a great meal and plied with far too much alcohol and then we got down to business.  Fenella said we all had to write each of our pet-hates on a piece of card and then present our case to the others who had to vote on whether or not they should go into Room 101 - a paper shredder, in this instance.

Lots of heated discussion and daft banter as we all fought to get ours accepted for destruction.

Eventually we agreed to put them all in!

Fenella’s:

The word ‘moist’
(represented by a pair of wet knickers!)

“It’s just so horrid and makes me think of panty-liners.  And I certainly don’t want to eat a cake that someone describes as ‘moist!’  Yuck!”

Holes
(hole punched sheet of A4 and a piece of Swiss cheese)

“What might crawl through them?  I don’t know if there could be a spider or something lurking behind!”

Zits
(a ball of cream cheese in clingfilm and stuck on her chin)

“Zits at
my
age?  Aren’t wrinkles enough?”

Josh’s:

Fenella’s rice pudding
(something that looked like a bowl of cold sick)

“Need I say more?”

Golf
(a chewed up golf ball)

“Bloody expensive walk that you can’t even take the dogs on!”

Kids with green snot
(one of Charlotte’s dollies with a bit of green play-dough)

“Wipe the bloody kid’s nose and don’t leave it hanging there for me to have to look at.”

Ned’s:

Corned beef
(a tin of Prince’s finest he’d picked up on the way home.)

“Half the stuff was buried in the ground for years - don’t expect me to eat it.”

Credit card bills
(a fake one he’d made on the computer - didn’t want F&J to see a real one!)

“I know I’ve spent the money but do I really have to pay it back and why is the interest so high?”

Dogs as accessories
(‘Stuffed Dog’ in a handbag with one of my t-shirts on.  Now I know what all the giggling with Max was about.)

“Get a proper dog and treat it like one.  Get it out of the handbag, naked and rolling in puddles.”

Mine:

Meemies
(a Barbie doll picked up at the Pound Shop)

“Stop making us all feel insecure about ourselves.  It’s not fair!”

Women who pop out babies left right and centre
(a pillow which I couldn’t quite get to go up the bustière, but they got the general idea)

“Stop making me feel like a failure - it’s not fair!”

MG
(a little cardboard figure I’d put together from a picture I’d found on the Internet - looking all voluptuous and wanton, the cow)

“Stop being so perfect -
it’s not fair!”

We then went on to come up with ridiculous ideas for what might be Gestapo’s 101’s.  These included: Poor people, naked dogs, the smell of smoked salmon, potato farmers, breaking an acrylic on a bagel and … “Libby - because she’s just too bloody perfect. 
IT’S NOT FAIR!”

Sunday 21
^st
December  AM

Last day of freedom before our Mums arrive for their Christmas break.  Can’t think why mine insists on coming by train every Christmas when she gets here by cab every other time - bet she does it so that the cab driver can’t cotton on that she’s away for a few days and go and steal her precious Royal Doulton!

Did final tidy up and hoover and decided we’d make the most of the day and take Max ice-skating at Kew.  Gave Fenella a call to see if they wanted to join us and we agreed to meet at two.

A bit apprehensive as I haven’t skated for years and was never particularly good.  Just hope I don’t break anything or we’ll have to put up with Mum cooking Christmas dinner and I’d never hear the end of it - or have enough Rennies to cope.

PM

Fenella and I decided that breasts and skating don’t combine well.  Neither of us could get our balance and we both have large racks so that must have
something
to do with it.   Ned, Max, Josh, Todd and Charlotte don’t have them and they could all skate like pros.