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Diary of a Mummy Misfit #1

Page 3

by Amanda Egan


  Think Ned may still be in shock. He keeps wandering around the kitchen saying, “It’s a bitch! A bloody bitch! Can you believe what we’re lumbered with? It gave birth under our table for heaven’s sake. I never wanted a dog and now we’ve got seven of the sodding things squatting in our kitchen.”

  Got a bit fed up with all his moaning so tried to placate him with a cheapie glass of plonk and a couple of freshly made MG salmon and cream cheese whirls I’d prepared for tomorrow night - now I’ll need to make more! Why can’t I ever get ahead?

  Eventually snapped and told him to stop stating the bleedin’ obvious.

  Saturday 24th May AM

  Took Max to the park this morning to get rid of some of his excess energy so that I wouldn’t feel too guilty spending the afternoon cooking for tonight. Ned seemed a bit calmer and slightly more accepting of the situation. Honestly, anyone would think it was me who’d just dropped sextuplets under the table and he was being expected to support us all.

  “I’ve worked out we can home them all at the end of August,” he said over coffee in the café. “We should start asking around now to see if anyone’s interested. And, of course, we do have the problem of who looks after them when we go to Scotland in July.”

  Bugger! That hadn’t even occurred to me. Our annual get together with Lou and Cameron - just as well one of us thinks about the practicalities of dog owning.

  I lied that I’d already considered that and would be speaking to Mum later. Sure she’d love to stay in the house for a week and look after them. This works quite well as I know I’ll also come back to a spic and span house. Bonus! Good Dog.

  Spent the afternoon preparing food and doing a general tidy up of the kitchen. Felt quite farm-housey, with our little sleeping bundles under the table and Max and Ned making Lego figures on it.

  Not quite sure about the hygiene aspect of it all but then nobody ever tells MG to put a hair net on her flowing locks so I’m sure a bit of puppy fur can’t hurt.

  PM

  Slightly squiffy as I write this.

  Had another great evening with F&J. Food was a big hit, as were the puppies. Fenella’s decided they’ll have two when they’re ready to leave their Dad. Mum? Whatever!

  Don’t know how keen Josh was on the idea but he soon agreed after Fenella coquettishly promised him “something delightful” when they got home.

  He looked so lovingly at her as she did a very sultry version of ‘Big Spender’. We didn’t have a breakfast bar or feather boa for her performance but she managed perfectly well with just a chair and a tea-towel.

  Evening ended with us all doing a medley of ‘Roll out the Barrel’, ‘Knees up Mother Brown’ and ‘Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner’. Josh did a very good job of drums on the table and I hopefully correctly recall that I played the spoons rather well.

  Had to quieten down at about 1-ish as Max came down and told us we’d keep the puppies awake.

  Sunday 25th May

  Fairly lazy day.

  Nipped next door to Mrs Sengupta with some leftovers but she asked me if I’d mind popping to “Mucky Dee’s” (MacDonalds) for one of her much loved Big Macs. With strange logic she tells herself they’re not made of sacred cow because she claims there’s no meat in them. She’d also run out of her “medicinal Babycham” so asked if I could get her a couple of dozen. She’s a game girl.

  Not sure if Pritesh is aware of her fondness for the bubbly stuff. Keep meaning to find a time to discuss with him but feel it best to avoid any time spent alone with him. Tend to opt for the safety of email.

  Got home to find Max obsessed with taking photos of the puppies and then getting Ned to show him on the computer. Every dog now has a name and every photo a title.

  ‘Dog washing Spot’

  ‘Dog kissing Dot’

  ‘Dog and Stripe’

  ‘Splodge and Brown’

  ‘Sleeping Spot and Patch’

  Max made us laugh when he entitled one picture, ‘DOG, my dog. He is the best dog mum in the world.’

  Definitely not one for ‘Show and Tell’ tomorrow.

  Monday 26th May AM

  Was called into nursery today for a meeting with Mrs Adams.

  Found it quite hard to keep a straight face when she voiced her concerns about Max’s language. She’d overheard him telling the other children, “Guess what? The bitch gave birth under the kitchen table!”

  Thankfully, she saw the funny side when I explained and he won’t be getting an ASBO just yet.

  Even said she’d like to see the puppies as she might want one for her daughter - this breeding lark is a doddle. Wonder if there’s a career in it for me?

  PM

  Ned pointed out there couldn’t possibly be a future in something we’re not making money from.

  “In fact, by the time they leave us, they’ll have actually cost us, you dozy dollop!”

  Hate it when he’s right but love it when he uses such terms of endearment.

  Day of Manor House tea party tomorrow - don’t have a clue what I’m wearing. Ned’s no help as he simply can’t understand how important it is for a woman to feel like she’s got it right. One false move with a passé handbag or last season’s shoes and it can all be over.

  Phoned Fenella to ask what she’d be wearing.

  “Oh, I hadn’t really thought about it Sweedie. Probably just a Boden dress or something. I’m never organised enough to know the night before.”

  Probably doesn’t need to plan ahead when her dressing room’s as big as our bedroom and her monthly clothing allowance is probably more than our mortgage payment. She’s too nice to resent for it. Although I do feel just ever so slightly green.

  Decided on wrap over linen skirt and cream crossover top. Ned nodded his approval during ‘Question Time’ and said, “Well, if you’re aiming for the ‘Busty Stepford Wife’ look, I think you’ve just about hit the nail on the head.”

  I may be deluded but I took that as a compliment.

  Tuesday 27th May

  Met Fenella at the gates to Manor House at 3.30 as the tea party was scheduled to start after the older kids had finished their school day.

  We were ushered into the school hall and each left breast was adorned with a sticky label stating our and our child’s name. Felt a bit like a nervous evacuee waiting to be chosen by the kindliest looking face. Thank God I had Fenella for company.

  Several other mothers started to fill the hall and the volume was quite astounding. How can so few people make so much noise? In their desperation to be heard, each upped the stakes if they feared they were about to be drowned out, and soon snippets of conversations were booming across the hall. A lot of them knew one another already as they had older children at the school.

  Overheard snippet #1

  “Yes, we’re off to the Maldives in August for a month and then Helga, the new nanny, will have Bronte, Oscar and Lexi whilst James and I have a week in Florence. Haven’t decided where we’re skiing yet but we’ll probably go for a couple of weeks at Christmas and then again next Easter.”

  #2

  “Never again will I put myself through this, Sophia. Bloody Polish builders upped and left last week and I’m still without my double butler sink and Aga. Poggenpohl arrive tomorrow to spec out the kitchen and we don’t have anyone to prepare the walls. Not to mention that we’re at least 30K down. I may well need to hit the Prozac again.”

  But the one that really amused me and Fenella was from a fluffy, over highlighted, perma tanned monstrosity in neon pink and killer heels…

  #3

  “Can you believe it, Imogen? These tits cost him the best part of 10 grand and, now I’m a size zero and at my target weight, he’s pissing off with his PA. I can’t tell you how humiliated I feel. Still, my tennis coach is quite cute. Obviously not got the cash to keep me in the same manner but, once I’ve dragged Hans’ arse through the courts, I don’t think that should cause too many probs!”

  Fenella whispered to me,
“Obviously takes a lot of money to look that cheap.”

  The children were all herded into the school gardens for a picnic and we were then addressed by the joint heads - Mrs Montague, head of lower school and Mrs Hardy, for the upper.

  I heard one mother whisper, “Oh God, here we go - bloody ‘Hinge and Bracket Time’. Couldn’t look at Fenella as I knew we’d start giggling because they really do look like them, especially the way they presented from the side of a baby grand. I kept expecting them to launch into a dirty ditty.

  Very impressed by their welcome speech though, which reinforced my faith in our decision. The school’s everything we’ve dreamt of for Max and, if it means having to put up with a few unsavoury mums, I’ll cope.

  Afterwards, went for a quick glass of wine at our local on the common. Max and Todd had fun in the garden, lifting stones and looking for creatures while slurping on their lemonade and scoffing crisps.

  “So, Lib, what’s your first impression of the women that we’ll possibly be sharing the next seven years of our lives with?” Fenella asked.

  “Boy, when you put it like that it sounds a bit scary but I’m sure some of them will be OK. It’s like any situation, there are those you like and those you don’t.”

  “Yes but you have to admit, Libs, that some of them are so far up their own f’ing arses it would be difficult to get to know them without some of their defecation rubbing off!”

  Fenella does surprise me sometimes!

  As she did again when she stated, “Oh well, better get a move on. Got to get home for a bit of F‘n’C with Josh. Hate it but he does so insist on it once a month.”

  When she saw my confused look, she laughed and added “Oh no, Sweedie, not that! Josh loves fish and chips - especially out of the paper and with vinegar not lemon, common little man - and, I’m sorry to say, tonight’s the night.”

  PM

  Caught Ned under the table, stroking Dog’s head and saying, “Hey Dog. How you doin’? You’re a clever dog aren’t you? All the babies doing well? Guess you were meant to find us and have your little family here. Where would you have gone otherwise, eh? Well, we’ll make sure they all go to good homes and you know this is your home now so … all sorted. No more worries for you, Dog.”

  He bashed his head and looked slightly sheepish when he came out.

  And that’s one of the reasons I married the big softie.

  Wednesday 28th May AM

  Got downstairs this morning to find Max dressed in complete Manor House uniform.

  “I’m ready Mummy. I look smart don’t I?”

  Took me a full half an hour to coax him out of it and explain that it was quite a few more sleeps before he started his new school and it was just another nursery day today. Suppose I should be grateful he’s looking forward to it. Must make a wall chart to cross off the days - that way the time span might mean more to him.

  Dropped him off at nursery and came back to tackle the mounting washing. Lou called from Scotland at about 11, so a good excuse to sit down with a coffee.

  “I’m tellin’ yeh , Lib, I’m bloody sick of never having spare dosh. It’s the same old thing month after month. ‘Which credit card shall we use to make up the mortgage shortfall this time?’ Or, ‘What shall we do today? Ah yes, go to the park and freeze our bollocks off for a change’. I’d never have moved back here if I’d thought it’d be this bad. D’yeh know, Cam’s lucky if he clears 250 a week at the moment. It’s no life for anyone. We’ll be on gruel and bread and dripping by the time you come for your hols.”

  I so sympathise with them - they’ve not had it easy since they returned to their hometown to be closer to Lou’s ageing parents.

  “S’ppose you’re rolling in it, with Ned in his city job?”

  Lou seems to have forgotten how expensive it is to live in London, and that not everyone who works in the Square Mile is a loaded hedge fund manager - not to mention that a big chunk of Ned’s salary will be going on the fees now.

  “And you’re such a lucky bitch having Max starting school in September. I’ve still got another year to wait before Finn goes. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, is it? This full time Mum lark?”

  I suggested that maybe she could get a part time job when Finn eventually went to school.

  “Oh yeah, great! Minimum wage at the local Co-op? No, I’m still thinking about training to be a piano tuner though. Hear there’s always business up in the big houses. Anyway betta dash, got to go and chop more veg for ma broth - how much excitement can ma poor ticker stand? Love yeh.”

  God, I hope she’s cheered up by the time we see them in July or I’ll be hitting the whisky and running for the hills.

  Collected Max from nursery and NM was outside handing out invites to Perry’s birthday party, announcing very loudly, “Of course, I left the decisions entirely up to Perry because he knows who he wants to celebrate with. So, I hope some of you won’t be too disappointed.”

  Wasn’t in the slightest bit bothered when Max didn’t receive one - just hoped he wasn’t. Don’t understand why she can’t invite the whole class like everyone else, though. Probably because she’s such a skinflint and only wants a low key, sandwiches, jelly and pass the parcel party for five! If it wasn’t for the fact that only Perry would get hurt, I’d have a good mind to invite the whole class to Max’s party minus him but, thankfully, I’m bigger and better than that. Besides, life is long and there’ll be plenty of other ways to punish the horrid woman.

  As I walked past her, I couldn’t help noticing she had a few rather unsightly whiskers growing on her chin - obviously preparing early for Halloween.

  Walked home and, to my relief, found that Max wasn’t at all fazed about the snub.

  “Oh no Mummy, I don’t mind. Anyway Perry’s got crawly things on his head and I got a letter home to say you need to have a look at mine.”

  Sent up a silent prayer that we’d be a lice free zone and then had to have a little chuckle when I imagined NM’s horror that Perfect Perry was in fact, lousy!

  Funny how such little things can make your day! Skipped the rest of the way home, just me and my boy.

  Waved to Pritesh as he arrived to visit his mum. Mmm … quite a cute bottom.

  PM

  After much searching, I’ve declared us lice free. Although I think Dog & Co may have their own freeloaders.

  TO DO TOMORROW

  Buy flea powder

  Buy lice repellent shampoo

  Try not to smirk when I see NM

  Quiz Max on preferred birthday party theme

  Write invite list including PP

  Went to bed feeling very virtuous and a bit itchy.

  Thursday 29th May AM

  Bloody NM had the cheek to approach us on our way into nursery to ask Max if he would like to come to PP’s party after all as “it seems a number of children are already booked for that day!”

  Was just about to make a spectacle of myself and splutter something along the lines that no one treats my son as a second best substitute, when Max piped up, “That’s very kind Mrs Osbourne, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to come either as I’m busy too. Isn’t that right mummy?”

  Such dignity at such a tender age. And such sneakiness! Can’t think who he gets it from …

  PM

  Nic & Rick came round for pre-theatre drinks and nibbles. Nic had a bottle of Moët under his arm so I should really have suspected something was afoot. All was revealed when he cracked it open and dramatically announced, “Rick and I will be making it official in August - we’re going to become awfully wedded husbands!”

  I’m really delighted for them as I can’t imagine them not being together. Wedding should be a real hoot too! Nothing like a gaggle of gays to make for a riotous event.

  “They’re not bloody getting married, Lib. People of the same sex cannot marry.” Ned spouted his usual speech, after they’d left. “They’ll be joined in a civil partnership. It’s NOT a marriage. People really do need to get the
ir gay facts straight.” He tittered a little there, pleased with his daft play on words.

  “Oh quit it, homophobe!” I giggled, knowing how this always gets his goat.

  “I’m NOT a homophobe. I’m not scared of them, I just don’t think it’s right.”

  “Then you’re a hypocrite because you’re always as nice as pie to them.”

  “Yeah, well they’re your friends Lib and I do like them as people. I just have to forget about the bedroom stuff.”

  Knew that the conversation would end up going nowhere so asked him what he thought about us giving them one of the puppies as a ‘civil ceremony’ present - didn’t dare mention the ‘M’ word again.

 

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