Diary of a Mummy Misfit #1

by Amanda Egan

  “Well, they have talked about getting a dog for a while I suppose,” he answered, “But I’m not so sure how I feel about one of our babies growing up with two fathers.”

  Was as much as I could do to stop myself throwing his dinner at him.

  Friday 30th May AM

  As it happens, Nic & Rick were delighted when I called this morning and suggested they choose a puppy. Ned’s secretly relieved another one is homed and Max is happy because he’ll still get to see it as well as Fenella’s and Mrs Adams has promised that he can go to see hers. Only two to go. Shouldn’t be too difficult. Think we’re now all realising that Dog ‘himself’ is here to stay. Reckon even Ned would shed a tear if he was suddenly claimed.

  Saw Mrs Sengupta sweeping her front path as I left for nursery. “Oh, Libbybeta, I was seeing that you had those funny girlie boys round last night. You must be coming in soon for some Babycham and Barry, then you can be feeding my greed for the girlie gossip.” Told her I’d be round for some Manilow Madness soon. She gets so lonely and I know she’d love to hear Nic and Rick’s latest news. Thank the Lord for broad minded geriatric Hindus.

  Fenella popped round for coffee while the kids were at nursery.

  “Just on my way back from a waxing” she informed me. “Phew, that was long overdue. Had to have the works - legs, pits, muff, nips, eyebrows - no stray pube or whisker was safe. The leisure centre would have banned me for frightening small children before long!”

  Think it’s Fenella’s honesty I love so much!

  “Now, Sweedie. I’ve got a bag of Todd’s clothes in the car that he’s outgrown - please don’t be offended but he’s quite a bit bigger than Max and there’s some nice stuff there. Would you like it or am I being terribly rude?”

  Had to laugh. I’m not that proud that I’d reject a shed load of designer clothes! I’ve just sorted through the bag and there’s loads of ‘Osh Gosh’, ‘Prada’ and ‘Calvin Klein’. My son will be the trendiest Second Hand Rose in town.

  She also said she had some barely worn track suit bottoms for Mrs Sengupta. “My arse only has to sniff a Belgian truffle at the moment, and the scales go in to meltdown. Lycra and velour must be kept well away from my buttocks for a while but I’m sure they’ll be great on Mrs Sengupta’s little bootie.”

  She then added with a throaty laugh, “That gorgeous son of hers still got the hots for you? What a fantastic way to keep a husband on his toes - ‘Delhi Desire On Tap!’”

  Must remember to give her a thank you gift/hush money. Ned’s easy-going but there’s only so far you can push a man’s tolerance.

  PM

  “With any luck Todd will keep growing out of non-patched school uniform too”, Ned joked over a glass of wine in the garden, “We may never need to cough up again. Here’s to wealthy friends with bigger kids than ours.” And he raised his glass contentedly.

  Doesn’t take much to please us these days!

  Saturday 31st May

  Think summer may be starting early. Temperatures in the high 70’s and London doesn’t know what’s hit it. Flesh is being exposed and it’s quite clear which bodies haven’t seen the sun for nearly a year, mine included.

  Had to shave my legs with Ned’s blunt razor this morning so they’re a bit scraped and nicked. No salon treatments for my excess hair. Slapped on a bit of instant tan and decided I could just about get away with last year’s linen shorts and a strappy top.

  Ned said I looked fresh and youthful and suggested we invited F&J round for an impromptu barbecue.

  “I’ll cook, of course,” he added.

  Why is it men always think that chucking a few steaks, sausages and burgers on a bbq constitutes as cooking? Who does all the preparing, marinating, salads/dressings and other incidentals? And runs around like a blue-arsed fly while he lounges at the coals, chatting to his buddies, swigging a beer and turning the meat occasionally. But of course, it’s’ an ‘exacting science of rotation’ and ‘not one to be left to the hands of a fair maiden’. Oh no Missus, we’ll leave the washing up for those.

  Decided it would be a good idea and thought it would be fun to put out the paddling pool for the kids. Ned even said he’d nip to Waitrose for the bits and take Max with him - a Boy’s Own Adventure. Took full advantage of the time and surfed the web for some of MG’s salad dressings. Much nicer than shop-bought.

  Soon found I didn’t have most of the ingredients (how big is her emergency pantry?) Quickly texted Ned for an assortment of Waitrose’s finest. Who can tell the difference if it’s in a fancy jug?

  Had just finished preparing the salad when Fenella, Josh and the kids arrived.

  “Sorry, I look so deathly, Sweedie,” Fenella announced, “But I’ve come straight from a spray tan and I’m still in development. Probably look like Al Jolson in a few hours! And the smell is rank, so don’t sit next to me when you’re eating. You’re looking very tanned. What’s your secret?”

  Both had a little giggle when I revealed mine was a ‘BOGOF’ from Superdrug which cost just under 4 quid for two bottles and works instantly, while hers set her back the best part of 50 and she stinks while she waits for the results!

  “Please Libby. Teach my wife your tricks of the trade before she ruins me!” Josh begged as he made up a jug of Buck’s Fizz with the goodies they’d brought. “Only yesterday she went out to buy a new pair of jeans and came back 500 quid lighter. It’s an illness I tell you!”

  Fenella was quick to retort, “Yes my love, it is. And you shouldn’t mock the afflicted so let’s go and sit in Libby’s lovely garden and we’ll say no more about it.”

  ‘The Lads’ returned triumphant from their shopping trip and all I can say is thank God I do the grocery shopping on a weekly basis. Couldn’t believe the amount they’d spent for one meal. The best cuts of meat, deli sausages and organic burgers.

  Realised this was maybe Ned’s way of implying to our new friends that we’re not as hard up as we look, so deliberately didn’t scream, “HOW MUCH?” when I saw the receipt.

  Mrs Sengupta stuck her head over the fence at about sixish to thank Fenella for the “leisure panties”. Asked her over for a drink but she was keen to get back to Barry on her new dibeder player. “He is looking so much more handsome with this high revolution my Pritesh has taught me about. He could pop in to explain to you, Libbybeta. Anytime you are needing a good man you know where to come.”

  Ned, Fenella and Josh managed to stifle their giggles as her head disappeared back over the fence.

  Fenella later on drunkenly added that she thought it was splendid that I had a “man in reserve”. “I think it’s a super idea, guys, especially one as yummy as Pritesh. You just never know when he might come in handy.”

  Ned and Josh looked slightly uncomfortable but it was interesting to know that Fenella thought he was rather tasty too, although I wouldn’t go so far as calling him my man in reserve - wonder if Fenella has one and, if so, who? Made mental note to discuss with her at a later date.

  Had a great afternoon/evening/early hours. So nice to finally see some sun and have time to relax with friends and enjoy it. Think we might all be paying for it tomorrow though as it was about 2am when they finally trundled off with their sleeping kids in a cab after Fenella’s final rendition of ‘My Way.’

  Sunday 1st June

  That was summer then!

  Or, as Ned quips, “I love the summer - it’s my favourite day of the year”.

  Only in England can you look forlornly out of the window at the teeming rain whilst cooling your sunburn from the previous day against the glass.

  Wasn’t much we could do with the day so watched ‘Toy Story 2’ for the umpteenth time and then had a late roast.

  Max decided he wanted to know the difference between the chickens at the farm and the one on his plate.

  Ned looked at me. I looked at Ned.

  I knew he was waiting for me to get us out of the hole but words had deserted me. Decided to stand my ground and leave it to him.
I fob off all the difficult questions on a daily basis - “Why is that man’s nose so big?” “How did a baby get in that lady’s tummy?” Felt it was time for Ned to take his turn.

  Wish I hadn’t.

  “Well, mate. The thing is. There is no difference. Except this one is now dead, plucked and cooked, rather succulently I must say, by Mummy.”

  Don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on Max’s face. It was as if I’d slaughtered the poor thing with my bare hands. OK, he had to know the facts but, Ned, Ned, Ned … there are ways!

  “Mummy, how could you?” Max cried. “That poor chicken. I won’t eat it. I won’t. I’ll be sick.”

  Oh fantastic. A vegetarian at four, all because he’s been traumatised by his insensitive father. Must remember not to leave the birds and the bees conversation to him.

  Managed to talk Max round by explaining that if he didn’t eat meat he’d have to eat five times as many brussels sprouts and, on our exceptionally rare visits to McDonalds, he’d just have to eat the bap or a ‘nice’ salad - food of the devil to my son.

  Cheers Ned, that’s another fine mess I got you out of.

  Monday 2nd June AM

  Only a month left until Max leaves nursery. Got a bit teary thinking about it. He’s growing up so fast.

  Was cheered by a message from Fenella saying she wants to host a murder mystery night for six people and would Ned and I like to take part. She then laughingly added that all of her friends were too “sodding boring to even entertain the idea” so would I be able to provide the third couple for the roles of ‘Madame Sinful’ (Edwardian brothel owner) and ‘Rock Hard’ (pimp and partaker of fleshly delights).

  Could only really think of Nic & Rick so gave them a quick call - although the roles outlined may be slightly beyond their terms of reference.

  “Oh, I don’t know Libs,” Nic pondered. “Drag’s not really my thing. Although I do quite like the idea of seeing Rick as ‘Rock Hard.’ OK, Sweets, for you I’ll do it. Saturday week you say? Should just about give me enough time to sort out the cozzies. Ciao!”

  Should have realised, Nic never turns the chance for ‘dress up’ down.

  Called Fenella back and she delightedly informed me that we’d both be playing the parts of tarts with hearts and Josh and Ned were both punters. “Should be a hoot, Lib. I’ve always fancied doing one and I can’t wait to meet your gay friends. Anyway must dash, I’ve got to be in Knightsbridge by noon to get the dreaded roots done. Talk later, Sweedie.”

  Stuck a load of washing on and looked at ‘TO DO’ list.

  Added:

  Sort costumes for MM night - what on earth does an Edwardian whore and punter wear? Not sure our wardrobes will accommodate.

  Scour charity shops and get ideas on the web.

  Make hair appointment for Saturday week. Combine having colour done with suitable Edwardian slapper style - thereby saving time and money. That’s how I’ll sell it to Ned anyhow.

  Try to lose a couple of pounds so I’m not ‘Bulging Whore’.

  PM

  Ned quite excited by the prospect of Murder Mystery - either that or the thought of Fenella and me dressed as tarts for the evening. He blanched a little when I told him Nic was playing Madame Sinful, though. Almost put him off his ‘Naughty Nibbles’ à la MG.

  He spent a lot of the evening trying to get into character but I thought it was a bit much when he snuggled up to me in bed later and asked, “How much?”

  For his sheer audacity, I treated him to a freebie.

  Tuesday 3rd June AM

  Booked hair appointment after timely marital negotiations last night. Panicked slightly when they said it would be 75 quid but it’s not as if I go every six weeks - more like six months - so surely Ned won’t begrudge me, especially after the extras I threw in with his gratis bonk. If I leave them any longer my russet curls will be a frizzball beyond any manageable control. Must remember to condition regularly once I’m coiffed and get out of the habit of a quick dollop of Max’s baby shampoo.

  Found great basque in a charity shop - red satin and almost my size. No more MG treats for me and, with the help of a good strapless bra, the puppies should just about stay put. Thought I could wear it with a bustle type skirt and my lace up ‘witchy boots’. Not quite sure how to achieve the bustle effect but, on a bad day, my bum can just about do it without any help. Think all of that, teamed with a boa and my long satin gloves, should create the right impression. Whoring - I was clearly made for it.

  Also found a dapper waistcoat and cravat for Ned - think he’ll look quite debonair and I may need to proposition him - who knows, our newly discovered foray into role playing might start to incorporate props …

  Called Nic to see if he’d given any thought to their costumes. Silly me! I should have known better. It was all going along with military precision and no detail would be left to chance. They took the opportunity to transform themselves very seriously and, both ‘resting’ at the moment, welcomed the prospect with open arms.

  “C’mon Libs, I can’t possibly discuss our designs with you. It’d spoil the allure. Let’s just say, we won’t let you down.”

  If I know Nic and Rick, Fenella’s in for a treat!

  PM

  Ned not overly happy with just salad for dinner but, when I explained about the red basque, he went a bit glassy eyed and tucked in. I will lose those pounds.

  He filled up on a forgotten stash of MG’s ‘Melting Mounds’ and I finished off the rest of a bottle of Fleurie.

  Oops, there’s always tomorrow to lose those pounds.

  Wednesday 4th June AM

  Got a letter from Manor House Parents & Teachers Committee today, addressed to ‘Parents joining Seedlings class this September’.

  It seems they usually have a couple of willing mums with children already at the school to act as class reps. It went on to say, “This way, the incumbents are already familiar with the running of the school. However, this year we have been unable to appoint Seedlings reps as existing Manor House mothers are already over-committed in other areas. In short, we would be grateful if we could recruit a couple of ‘newbies’ to take on the roles. They would of course be given our full support - especially in the organisation of the Christmas Fair which also falls to Seedlings this year.”

  Yeah, right! What sort of nutters would put themselves up for that?

  Shortly afterwards, Fenella rang and I’m still kicking myself after giving her the go-ahead to call the school offering our services.

  I know I shouldn’t have let her talk me into it but she made it sound like such fun. Anyway, we are now ‘Fenella & Libby - Seedlings class reps’ for the next academic year and have a Christmas Fair to organise for 140 kids plus parents for November.

  Bugger, why can’t I just learn to say no?

  PM

  Ned almost peed himself, he laughed so hard when I told him.

  “When will you ever learn, Lib? Obviously no one wanted to do it because it’s such a shit job. You know you’ll be cursing and tearing your hair out by November. But of course, Fenella made it sound like such fun. Honestly, that woman is so persuasive, she could make a vasectomy rate with a blow-job!”

  Wasn’t too sure if I liked him thinking of Fenella at the same time as a BJ but was too exhausted to comment. Anyway needed to have an early night as Fenella and I are meeting with the Chair of the Parent/Teacher’s committee tomorrow to get a list of our duties.

  Quite excited by my new challenge, despite my apprehension. Flicked through now-tidy wardrobe and decided on newish ‘charity shop gem’ dress - very ‘Fundraiser Mum’.

  Went to sleep with thoughts of ‘best Christmas Fair ever’ running through my head.

  4am

  Woke in cold sweat. I’ll kill Fenella. She caught me at a weak moment. I hadn’t had any chocolate for two days so I was vulnerable. Have never organised anything like this in my life and it will be a total disaster. We’ll be a laughing stock. Oh, help!

  Thursday
5th June

  Not a good start to the day. Wardrobe malfunction.

  Woke up to find that one of the puppies had left a runny poop on the dress I’d stupidly left on the kitchen chair.

  Tried to scrape it off and do a spot clean but the effect would have been less ‘Fundraiser Mum’ and more ‘Mum-Who-Needs-Funds’. Gave up on a bad job and quickly chucked on the first thing I could find - bum lifting jeans and crocheted top. Not a good omen for the first day in my official school capacity.

  Quickly dropped Max at nursery and made a dash down the A3 for our meeting. The committee Chair, a mother with three already at the school, said she’d prefer for us to go to her as she had a new Filipino housekeeper and wasn’t comfortable with leaving her ‘home alone’ yet. God, if I had a cleaner I’d be more than happy to leave her alone. I don’t want to do the cleaning myself, so why would I want to watch someone else do it? We’ve got nothing worth pinching though, so I guess the stakes are much higher.