The walk to school was long and painful on the brain.
Not due to lack of birthday present, just Godzilla felt the need to tell me, during the entire 25 minute uphill walk, in his own little way, exactly what sort of cake he wanted for his birthday.
“It has to be a shroom cake.”
The problem with Godzilla’s “own little way” is that it makes perfect sense, but only to the voice inside his head and not to the minds of everyone outside that space.
“You know,” he says, in a rather exasperated tone. “A shroom cake! You know a shroom cake.”
“No. Sorry, I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Yes you do! You played Super Mario Brothers. You know what a shroom is!”
Ok, I admit. I did have a bit of a go on the DS, but that was to make a point. They were misbehaving, they had it taken away from them, so I had to sit there and play it just to show them how serious I was about their behaviour. I didn’t actually read the manual to find out what the hell a “shroom” is or was, or anything else for that matter. I just wanted to make a point.
Monkey Boy comes to the rescue, informing me that “shrooms” are in fact the mushroom things in the game that do … [and after that it was just blah blah blah and I have no idea what he was talking about]
“Ah, right. Shrooms! Now I get it.” No, I don’t. But I can make mushrooms.
Take Chippie to his on hour orientation at his new childcare centre. As per Murphy’s Law, he was grizzly all morning, got worse as we neared the centre, clung to be when we got into the room, inadvertently got kicked in the head within the first ten minutes, then avoided every puddle outside, grizzled some more, and clung tighter.
I took great pains to reassure the room leader that, yes, I’m actually all for childcare and would be quite happy to forgo the whole orientation thing and just leave.
Head home where it’s lunchtime, and I complete a few urgent tasks before sending Grumpy Pants off to the butchers whilst Chippie sleep and I make the Shroom Cakes. Or plan to, only we have no eggs, so that plan is sufficiently thwarted before I can even begin. Ring Grumpy to request eggs. And lolly bag stuff. And wine, bring back lots of wine.
Make the most of the time to finish off a few more tasks on To Do List, whip up a butter cake mix upon Grumpy’s return, kicking Chippie off legs where he’d attached himself every 34 seconds, and add mix to muffin trays.
Head out to purchase Godzilla’s birthday present whilst we can, deciding on a new bike as his current one has the effect of not only tipping him off balance, but causing his knees to wedge themselves up his nostrils every time he rides. It’s well over due. Select an already put together one (pre-assembled I believe is the correct term) and toss it in the back of the car.
Whip up icing a revolting shade of irridescent blue and turn the cupcakes into Mario Bros. Shrooms in a matter of minutes. Grumpy returns with Godzilla and four of his school friends minutes after another two are dropped off early. Holding breath and awaiting the comments relating to wrongness of Shrooms, I was suitably impressed when Godzilla not only smiled hugely when he saw them, but actually recognised them for what they are.
I did done good.
His friends played happily for two hours, Grumpy having them run around the backyard while he threw a Howler at them. To them. No, it was definitely at them. Informed him the children where there for Godzilla and not for his entertaiment.