Once per year (we can only cope with once) we try and do a nice deed for my sister-in-law, whereby we take her kids off her for the weekend, entertain them and spoil them completely.
Last weekend we did just that. It did also mean that we had to cope with the mother-in-law as well, but give her a reclining sofa and a full belly and she is pretty harmless. So we took 2 kids this time, a 9 year old (going on 65 and grumpy as hell) and the 5 (and a quarter) year old. The story of my Gloucestershire in-laws has always been an interesting one. They are a bit mental, not quite all there and really don’t have much money - they actually don’t bother trying to have much money and the sister-in-law (a qualified hairdresser don’t you know) would much rather sit on her arse, or should I say lie flat on her back, as evident with a 4th child at 16 weeks pregnant…
Yes speaking of the 4th child. This came as a bit of a shock when we found out. We thought 3 kids from 2 different fathers was enough, but no. Now it will be 4 children from 3 fathers and about the 7th father the first child has had to get used to. It’s no wonder she is a little grump, poor kid. The only stability she has is seeing us a few times every year. The least we can do when she comes over is to spoil her and her sister bit. The so called rich aunty and uncle, though we couldn’t be more skint, but that’s how they see it. Thing that gets me is the mother-in-law when here will not offer to pay for anything, even to take the kids swimming which cost £6 in total and claims she has no money. Yet she will quite happily spend £30 to top her mobile to go on the internet all evening to chat to weird blokes on ‘girls date for free’. Talk about get your priorities straight.
Anyway, these kids are really wonderful. We took them to climb big plastic things, slide down big plastic things that ‘made fireworks’ on their little arms but still they loved it. Then we went bowling, but I gave so much help to the little one with all the barriers and things that she ended up beating me – I wasn’t impressed! Then we went to Pizza Hut. Such a simple thing but they have never been, and the best thing about having a kid with me is that I could go to the ice cream factory!!! Brilliant. I lived my uni life of cheapo pizza wishing I had a kid just so as I had a real excuse to go to make my own ice cream and not feel like a complete twat!
The next morning we took them swimming. I have never found swimming a pleasure really unless on holiday or until they put a sauna at my gym and my whole outlook changed. This time though swimming was one of the biggest pleasures ever. The 5 year old had never been. Can you imagine that, never been to a pool. This is the kind of life the children live unfortunately; they just have no opportunity to do anything, OK money is tight, but come on they’re kids they deserve to have fun, there's no excuse for something so cheap. They would spend more than that in cigarettes in a day. As we walked in the little one held my hand so tightly right up to the edge of the pool. She was terrified of the water, it took at least 15 minutes of coaxing to get her to walk down the steps just to get her knees wet. Finally having watched all the other children laughing she decided to do it. As she started to walk across the pool and her confidence grew the smile on her face was so amazing. I’ve never felt like that before and in this moment I decided that I definitely want children…..
After the sobering quiet of the children having left, I’ve really missed it. I would give anything to be able to experience that myself and whilst I know they are not mine and I can hand them back after a weekend and in reality they can be such annoying pains, I am sure it is a small price to pay for everything that goes with it. I absolutely love my cuddles and always need a bit of attention, so it was great that for the weekend my attention was also being innocently craved back, all be it to someone else’s beautiful little girls. I love them loads.
Having had a great weekend I am now pleased that the working week went quickly and that the best thing other than it being Friday today of course, was when a supplier ‘strategic partner’ that no one likes or values, accidentally sent me an email instead of his colleague to talk about an interview we had to cancel next week… Whilst he totally slagged us off in this email and told me on the phone something different to his email suggested around the cancellation fee, it also highlighted in blatant admission that he overcharges us quite significantly for every piece of work he completes for us. When I say significantly I am talking thousands. Now I could have responded in a way that made him really have a brown trouser moment, or could say nothing… yet. He probably won’t notice that he sent it to me and we can use this as ammo at a later date. So I chose the latter to keep him stewing a bit. I kept the email and sent it to my boss for interesting reading on her return from holiday. What I suspect will happen is that on talking to his colleague thinking she has read the mail, she will have no clue and he will realise it didn’t get to her. He will check his mail, realise that instead of forward he pressed reply and hence it turned up in my inbox. He will then call me and be all nice and complimentary, clearly fake. In the meantime he will call his ‘friend in high places’ to smooth the waves before my boss returns from holiday and lets rip. Not sure which one of these will happen, but I can’t wait to see!!!
With a great work ending to the week I can start my Birthday weekend of drunken torture once more. Tomorrow night it is the dodgy pikey tacky Greek restaurant with plate smashing, crazy dancers, sweaty waiters and a few hundred cocktails. This will be followed by severe hangover on Sunday whilst husband finishes ruining the paintwork of our en suite which he started and didn’t finish on a decorating weekend long ago. During this time his mood will get worse, I will hear swear words I didn’t know existed and for the rest of the evening will have to contend with a miserable short fused man I now name ‘Mooby Dick’. The reason for this name is due to the little appearance of flab in his upper region he claims is not there. That will teach him for saying I have a fat arse, even if it is true!
