Today, the biggest one, Monkey Boy, set off on a slightly-longer-than-two-week “school excursion” to Germany and Austria.
It was also supposed to include a short stint in Paris, but a small, extremely loud, radical, fanatical minority put a stop to that.
Anyhoo, the last many months have been filled with mini-excursions to Kathmandu, whom I’m sure I’ve kept in business this year, to purchase all manner of clothing to suit the near-freezing temperatures they are expecting in such a location.
After each expedition, the bags of required items were shoved into a corner of his bedroom, stuffed between the bed and a bookshelf, and subsequently hidden under a mound of tossed jackets and school pants.
I extracted them, and resorted to sorting them and tossing them onto the bed in the spare bedroom, formerly my office which I now no longer had.
We also endured two weeks of complaints; from him complaining his slightly younger brother kept saying he wasn’t going to miss him, and from the slightly younger brother (Godzilla) complaining that Monkey Boy kept asking him if he was going to miss him. So that was fun.
Thursday evening and the bags still weren’t packed, although we had some semblence of order, and a selection of what was to be packed all in one spot.
This morning, he slept as late as he could. The Younger Brudders were also afforded a day off school so they could farewell him at the airport.
The car trip in started with a discussion about who was going to miss whom the least, followed by whose birth was a mistake, and who was adopoted. Oh, all the love, just filling the car so much it nearly burst.
Basically, the first 23 seconds were fine. After that Godzilla was alternating between “bored” and “hungry” and wanting to go home, and/or eat. He got his second wish, as the group found they had half an hour to kill, so we all went off for ridiculously overpriced coffee, served by staff that clearly didn’t want to be there, but were only working there because they needed a job and this was the best they could get, and consumed at tables that appeared to have enough layers of sticky ickiness to be hiding a fossil or two between each layer.
Chippie pretty much went into dinosaur mode and pteradonned around the place, flapping his arms about and getting in everyone’s way. How he didn’t trip anyone up, I don’t know, but I did manage to restrain him.
And was we waited, and I listened to the increasingly nasty sibling banter that was verging on seriously uncool, I couldn’t help notice the actions that were happening.
I somehow suspect that there may be a great deal of missing each other.
Just don’t tell anyone, okay?
PS. Yes, I am a little worried. I’m not entirely sure he packed enough pairs of undies. He did keep saying “It’s fine, Mum! STOP!” but you know, with my and my
disorder fear of not having enough pairs of undies packed, well … you know …