Nope, there really is no rest for the wicked.

bath pumpkin

We have had a busy week. On Monday we hosted a pumpkin carving for about 60 people (I’d expected 20). At the weekend a group of my bestest, oldest friends and their kids came to stay.  Utter heaven, and of course, with five women, eleven kids and two dogs, pretty much constant chaos.  So after everyone had left and we ‘forgot’ to go to the village bonfire and put the kids to bed early instead, I slipped into our outside bath with the express intention of silence…About thirty seconds later came the sound of Bear crying. Followed by the sound of Andrew not doing much about it. Bear’s bedroom is above the outside bath so I was able to hear that the crying was about toothache. The kind of toothache Bear only ever gets in bed, once mummy and daddy have sat down for the evening. And then far, far worse crying as Andrew said he would have to stop eating sweets. And then the village fireworks began.  Which would have been OK if I could have seen them from the bath, but somebody forgot to chop down the trees and flatten the hill between our house and the village green so it was all bang and no sparkle. And just as they were coming to the end Bear popped his head out the window wanting to know what all the noise was.  Fortunately he was distracted by the pumpkin I’d lit on the side of my bath. But why had I used Raff’s pumpkin instead of his…

Once I’d reassured Bear I loved him just as much as Raff I Iooked again at the pumpkin. When we carved it on Monday Raff had specifically requested we carve ‘crying’ into the pumpkin’s face. Which then gave me a few minutes worry about how messed up our two year old was. And then I thought of the book, Five Minutes Peace, about Mrs Large the elephant trying to have a bath without being disturbed by her three young children. And then I swallowed the rest of the leftover wine from our weekend, sank under the water and didn’t get out for a very long time…


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