Posts Tagged ‘dress-ups’

hwMajor work deadlines to deal with at the moment so please expect limited posting for the next week or two. I’m under pain of death from Working Mum not to put blogging before my domestic duties. Mrs Rottweiler – my client for the next fortnight – is frankly, even scarier than WM when mad, so I certainly won’t be borrowing any of her time either.

Nine-year-old Rodent Boy was as enthusiastic as ever this year and simply couldn’t wait to go trick or treating last Friday night. His two apathetic siblings however, stopped finding the enthusiasm necessary to dress-up and hawk themselves around the neighbourhood some years back – even if it did mean forgoing a big bag of goodies. I suggested to Soldier Boy that he could combine it with his junk mail delivery, but convinced this was some kind of ‘brother supervision’ trick, passed up the opportunity. Rodent Boy though, excitedly dressed up in what he could find amongst the contents of our ever-dwindling dress-up box. Decked out in mostly black with a small cape and a trilby hat, he looked like a slightly camp vampire Frank Sinatra. With the absence of any fake blood or indeed vampire teeth, he smeared Working Mum’s best red lipstick around his mouth, which according to him, made it look like he’d been sucking blood. Unfortunately, he actually just looked like a he’d been snogging a pig – I feigned being really scared all the same. Still at least he’d made an effort, as did a couple of his mates – though not sure ‘Superman’ is what Halloween is really all about. The thing that annoys me though, is the one kid who refuses to dress up, then tags along scoring just as many lollies [sweets/candy] as the rest of them.

Following a trip to the city with his crew (who are mostly girls), 13-year-old Soldier Boy now sports what looks like a large brown birthmark on his cheek. He calls it his ‘love freckle’. I call it being a prat in a department store and letting a girlfriend spray you in the face with a can of fake tan.

Princess lost her mobile phone this week and has suggested that I should go halves buying her another one. She claims the phone provides the vital link between herself and the family she so dearly loves. Apparently we would be so much the poorer without this communication. It seems to me that I’d be poorer either way and given she has more disposable income than I do these days, what with babysitting, leaflet delivery and working in the bakery, I politely, and quite rightly, declined the request.


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