gin-nurtered time waster.
©Elsie Anderton,
The Babylon Lane Tales 2012
The Babylon Tales
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the almost award winning blog from Manchester
It's been a day of sorts.
There's been plenty of singing, which is not always a good thing. It started with 30 minutes of slightly mental duet singing to Enough is Enough in the car (my daughter got to be Donna Summer, which I'm still smarting over), followed by Side by Side (on a loop) walking through the streets of Manchester.
This sounds a bit random but isn't, we used to sing this song as we walked to nursery when she was 2. We didn't look so mad in those days, it may even have been classed as sweet. These days it just looks bloody nuts, especially in a busy metropolis with a child who is 7 (but looks about 10), whilst wearing cherry covered clown trousers (me) and safety goggles as a headband (her). To complete the bonkers look you need to remember your jazz hands and shuffle-hop-ball-change foot steps. You can smell the fear of strangers, see them flinch away as you walk past and almost hear the 'oh bless, look at them, the poor things. They must have been let out for the day. I wonder where their carer is' running through their heads.
Do you know the song? Here, I don't see why I should suffer alone.
We were searching amongst the students for dragons' eggs. We'd still be there now if it wasn't for the sympathies of the security guard (see clown trousers and safety goggles). They hid them bloody well and we worked hard for our prize (three chocolate eggs and a pin badge). Good fun, go. They're running the hunt until 30th April (here for link). If you want the answers in advance I have them, but it'll cost you (the following payment types are accepted: gin, hasbeen sandals, schlumberger bracelet). The library-like hushed conditions are also handy if you have a child (like mine) that never shuts up and wants to sing weird pre-war songs in public.
As a proper reward we then ate huge pastries in Patisserie Valerie. Again, I managed to prevent the child from singing by a discrete point at the sniffy staff and a timely cake related threat.
Somewhere in between the dragons and the cakes she managed to make an Easter card for the Easter Bunny. I honestly can't remember where, when or how this happened. All I know is that I now have a bag full of glitter, pom-poms and a still-not-dry-gluey, bozz-eyed rabbit . It's as if I've been rohypnol craft raped by Mister Maker. Or perhaps it's an Easter Week miracle?
Do you remember the Christmas Nits? Yeah, well it would appear that this is how the Anderton family celebrate every high day and holiday. We no longer bother with Christmas trees or Easter eggs, who needs them when your child breeds nits on the cycle of the church calendar. I'm a little concerned that this is just another outward manifestation of the mini-fundementalist's religious fervour. (I've told you before about her barely concealed Easter Ecstasy, which I thought had peaked two weeks ago when she threatened us with an afterlife of damnation). Is my daughter suffering from a creepy, crawly stigmata?
That's all I've got for you. I'm sure Holy Wednesday deserves more celebration and reverence than this. I'm not sure why, although I probably should know given that my house is turning into a wholly owned subsidiary of the Church of Scientology. The best I can offer you is a bit of Donna and Barbara. I'm Donna. No arguments.
Happy Holy Wednesday*. Oh, and nits if you're listening, enough really is bloody enough.
gin-nurtered time waster.
©Elsie Anderton,
The Babylon Lane Tales 2012
The Babylon Tales
Promote your Page too
gin-nurtered time waster.
©Elsie Anderton,
The Babylon Lane Tales 2012
The Babylon Tales
Promote your Page too
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