Oooh so there was some lovely sun out this weekend, still a bit brisk, but feel-good weather never the less. Time to get out in the garden (with a fleece on). Thing is – my kids are noisy. Screamy, shouty, just-being-kids noisy. They are my kids and they give me a headache and so I try to spare a thought for the poor neighbours. Not that they appreciate it, experts in icy stares as they are. You see, our house is fortunately/unfortunately surrounded by pensioners and semi -retired folk. Here is how the two categories pan out:
- We get lots of free , huge, amazing vegetables from No.7’s allotment. I don’t know what most of them are.
- We get free gardening as No.5 can’t help herself.
- No.7 has taken a shine to eldest child and they occasionally provide free childcare while she bashes the hell out of their piano.
- They buy seasonal goodies so I don’t have to, Chocolate Santa’s. Thorntons Easter Eggs, Jelly Spiders. Saves me oodles of pennies.
- I get all the Sunday Supplements for free. Okay I don’t get them till Wednesday, but they buy every single paper – it is magazine heaven.
- The children like to run up and greet nice chap at no.7 with a lovely hug, they are the wrong height and I just die inside when they are headbutting his groin. Poor man.
- They do not like noise. They pretend to like noise ‘oh it is so lovely to have some life in the neighbourhood…’ Just not when we can hear it/see it /have it shoved in our faces.
- They hate our dog. They don’t even pretend.
- We have minor car wars. They have lived their forever and care not that it is our drive. I am frightened that forcing the issue may cause one of them to have a heart attack.
- The chastise the children. Not always welcome and/or necessary.
- They hate, and I mean, hate, that I have my supermarket shop delivered. They tut tut when the van comes up the drive, eyeballing the poor driver. I want them to see me one day, in Tesco’s, about to lob everything, shop and kids included, into the ‘Community Donation Box’. Then, THEN they would understand.
So the first bit of Sunshine this weekend led me to trying to control the fun in the garden,
‘..Ssshh, no screaming on the trampoline….stop yelling like that……NO! NO! come away from Mrs (no.5) pretty flowers AWAYYYYYY!!.. Stop fighting, STOP IT – do you think everyone wants to listen to you lot?…..AAAGGHHHH who left the zip open on the trampoline? . …. no it’s not broken.. its fine. please stop crying, please, please, yes here is a Jammy Dodger… just be quiet…etc etc..’
I had a few stares from one couple, The Trampoline Police ‘…it is such an eyesore..’
If it helps, I completely agree. Hate the bloody thing. Yet the kids love it, it provides oodles of entertainment and they are out there rain, hail or shine, so it’s here to stay.
So we will have to muddle through. As my mum pointed out to me, we are Out more than we are At Home. They (Groin Man, Chastiser, Trampoline Police, Eyeballer and Icy Stare) will have to sit in their garden between 9-5 and not at all during the school holidays. I’ll draw up a timetable and send them a copy… Along with some ear plugs . xxx