Monkey Boy, with his Gordon Ramsay fascination and ability to get over feeling bad really quick (grumble, gurmble) decided that he really wanted to go to holiday program again today.
Because they were making pasta. Not just cooking it, but actually making it.
*sigh* How could I deprive him of the pleasure.
Of course, I had to keep that fact hidden from the Grumpy One, who quite likely would have had a conniption had he know that Monkey Boy was going to be doing anything remotely like Cheffing. And fun.
(He has still to learn that the best way to ensure your kids will do something you don’t want them to do, is to make a big thing about them not doing it. He’ll learn one day.)
But, of course, a spanner is thrown in the works. I’m at a conference all weekend, and staying (yippee) at a hotel tomorrow night. All. By. My. Self!
So, the Grumpy one figures if I’m not gonna be home, they might as well go off and have some fun without me.
More grumble grumble. It’s not fair. How come they always do the fun stuff when I can’t?
So negotiations were made and timetables scheduled to ensure maximum particpation in holiday program and Chef type activities, and getting to ‘holiday’ destination in time for fish and chips for dinner.
(Fine, I’ll just eat my good chocolate ice-cream for dinner. So, ner!)
Of course, they ring when they get there. Like I care at this point. And get the ins and outs of what they’re up to.
“Yeah, we got here ok, just about to go have dinner.”
“Yup, it’s cool. Godzilla is doing a poo!”
“Hello, mummy. I love you. I just did a poo on the toilet. And is good. Is different to our house. It has a