Thank you, Nicki Minaj, for that eloquent lyric which invaded my fucking head all week.
Last week I promised the kids that if they didn’t murder each other or set my house on fire (aimed mainly the little ones admittedly) then I’d take them to the beach on Friday (26th).
Great idea. Except that I forgot as I no longer live in the North West, any beaches are a 2 hour drive away. Balls.
Anyway, no one died and not one fire erupted, despite the new gas hob working. Damnit. So we packed up the car, I made lists, then cross referenced the lists, then ticked all the stuff of as it was rammed into the boot. Taking four kids to the beach by myself was a great idea. I was already wondering how quickly my sanity would evaporate.
Imagine my surprise, and suspicion, then to discover that we had a bloody good day. We got into the beach, offspring were dutifully covered in sunscreen, which the sand stuck to immediately, and no one moaned. I genuinely thought I must have gone deaf. The boy and I made sandcastles (after his sisters had buried him) then the girls jumped into the sea, but not before actually asking a lifeguard for advice on sea safety.
I did wonder if the husband had managed to get some tranquillisers and sneakily injected the children whilst they slept. Apparently not. He was as shocked as I was that I wasn’t effing and blinding and threatening a nervous breakdown. (Not that this is a regular occurrence *cough*)
The sun went in, we were in Lincolnshire after all, so we took a trip to the local fish restaurant. The kids all sat beautifully, ordered their lunches and were sickly sweet polite to everyone in the place. At this point I was genuinely worried that they’d been drugged, or replaced by aliens.
We finished our day between the local water park area and the beach, made some great sandcastles and even better memories. As for me, I couldn’t stop exclaiming in amazement about what a good day we’d had.
They were just as good at the local castle the next day (definitely not a guilt cramming of experiences after a summer of Netflix, no sir).
I’m loving these new versions of my kids, but a bit bewildered about the lack of bickering and bollockings. If the aliens have indeed swapped my children for these well behaved angels, good luck guys, and God speed.