OK. Fair enough. It was a normal weekend. It was the first weekend in literally months that we had absolutely nothing planned. No parties, no dinner parties, nothing. (I’m almost ashamed to admit it)
We decided to give the kids a break from all their friends and have a lovely weekend to ourselves and the Grandparents.
We should have known that there would be trouble when we popped into our local Pick and Pay yesterday and they ran around the shop screaming and laughing and babbling like lunatics. Generally they are a bit noisy in the shops, but yesterday they took it to a whole new level. Yesterday we were ‘those’ people that you hate in the shops with the loud children.
And that’s pretty much how the rest of the weekend went. With a little manic crying every now and again, jumping on everything, ignoring repeated pleas and just generally being little miscreants. We tolerated it because Mignon and Isabel are under the weather with the snots, so we only realised it when we got to the end of our tethers on a Sunday evening and they eventually ended up in Time Out. I’m surprised we lasted that long.
After Time Out peace descended. They sat in a line all quiet and peaceful, little halos all bright and shiny. Which makes me wonder: why did it only dawn on us then to draw the line? We just kind of sucked it up until then.
Don’t get me wrong, we had a lovely weekend full of hugs and cuddles and we chatted up a storm, but jeez, they’re a busy bunch.
Here is a conversation about party themes we had in the car today. Just so you believe me when when I say it’s an ongoing conversation in our house: (If you don’t understand Afrikaans, my apologies, but there’s enough references to popular characters for you to follow the gist)
Oh, and when you get given a box full of prickly pears that haven’t been de-thorned, do encourage your husband to peel them outside. On paper. And not to use one of the kitchen cloths to wipe down the kitchen counter and then just chuck it in the sink. Where Someone will use it later. And end up with a hand full of thorns. Just so you know.
Ag ja, we talk about cabin fever. Maybe it was that. My boys are also snotty nosed. Aijay jay. So I wanted to read that conversation but have no idea how to open the file.
Ha ha, “die verskriklike oomie” Gotta love it!
LOL I’d love to know who the sexist “verskriklike oom” is! I suggest you plan this party the night before the way they keep changing their minds.
oooch