It all started with basketball, which was at a different time and different location from the one I wrote in my diary at the start of the season as I am so organised and then wonder why I bother when no one else is.
Anyhoo, off we all went. Godzilla is slowly improving, I managed to “be involved” without actually succumbing to coaching by being the scoring person for the second week running, and Grumpy sat and watched and cheered, but no where near as loudly as me. He also watched when, in the last two minutes, Chippie ran onto the court and stood in the middle of the key whilst ten under 10s ran at him with limited coordination and eyes on the ball, and Monkey Boy stood on the side of the court and yelled “Come here!”
Torn between my duty as a mother and my duty as score-keeper, I sent some death stares in Grumpy’s direction and watched in horror as the outcome I had envisaged was thwarted by the referree who just about tripped over Chippie.
That disaster avoided, it was time to go home and get the kids to get some rest before heading off to the guitar concert, and remember to ring gymanstics to let them know Monkey Boy wasn’t coming. Grumpy left for work, his brother turned up just as I’d managed to talk Godzilla into going to bed. By which I mean, lots of cajoling culminating in “I don’t bloody CARE! Just go to bed and REST!”
He left leaving us with just enough time to get everyone organised. I managed my shower whilst Monkey Boy “supervised” Chippie, then it was put him in the bath and contemplate the best strategy from here on in.
If I do my hair and makeup, and even get dressed, then get him out of the bath, the potential for disaster and having to redo hair and/or makeup is high. On the other hand, if