Apparently, I deserve a Mother Of the Year Award. Again. Not just because I need to be chaperoned to Parent Teacher Interviews, to make sure I behave myself, but because of the things I do as I go about by life and parenting and stuff.
Last night was another example of this; it was a school disco, with a Logies theme.
Not only had I offered to assist on the night (I’m the new kid at the school, I need to make some friends), but also because in the combined history of the Logies and my Life, I have never watched, been interested in, or thought much about the Logies.
Some years, depending on how vocal and in my face the talk of the Logies is (yes, thank you Facebook for inviting me to join the conversations and telling me what all my friends are doing – do you even know me at all?) I avoid them like one would avoid the plague.
In fact, the name even sounds a little bit like a plague-like disease.
Also, it assumes that one can actually avoid the plague, and given the experiences of many tens of thousands of people, it appears it is somewhat unavoidable; as is being confronted by the Logies.
Coupled with the fact that Chippie has reached that milestone whereby his reply to anything and everything is “I don’t want to … go/eat that/watch that/do that/etc”, it was all a bit of a mountain last night.
I had no idea what he could go as to this Logies themed disco. I suggested he go as Steve Backshall, his current idol. He didn’t want to.
I didn’t have time to discuss, as I quite literally walked in the door, shoved a handful of cereal (also literally) in my gob, drove Monkey Boy to his place of employment, drove home, and made it just in time to run upstairs and get changed (I was afforded the opportunity to wear all black for my role at the Logies Disco), and leave.
In my absence, Chippie had decided he would, indeed, go as Steve Backshall, which meant he wore a long sleeved t-shirt with a dinosaur on it.
Remember when Steve Backshall was tracking down the deadliest 60 dinosaurs? Yeah, me either.
Ultimately, it didn’t matter what he wore, the weeks of resistance to going to the disco were completely futile as he had a great time, and I met some new people and now know them by name, which is nice.
Dinner was off my list of activities for the day; Chippie and I had eaten at the disco (two cupcakes counts as dinner, right?), Monkey Boy ate at work, as did Grumpy, and Godzilla had fended for himself and has created for himself a culinary extravagance consisting of two minute noodles, followed by walking in and out of the pantry and dipping his hand into various cereal containers, dropping many on the floor in his wake, and concluding his meal with an entire box of Cheezels.
I was just looking forward to a sit down and a glass of wine.
A plan that came extremely close to being thwarted by a text from Monkey Boy advising he was finishing work early, and could I come and get him at the new time. The wine gods were smiling down on me, and Grumpy’s work finish time coincided beautifully with that of Monkey Boy’s.
I celebrated this win with my coveted glass of wine, which left me no wine for my sit down and relax moment.
Luckily, wine can multitask.
How was your Friday evening?