by Amanda Egan
Ned’s 41st.
Max woke me at five o’clock insisting that we go downstairs and start on Ned’s surprise breakfast. Ned heard every word but did an Oscar winning performance of feigning sleep and I managed to coax Max in for a cuddle and another hour’s kip.
Tiptoed downstairs at six and began our breakfast preparations. Max laid out the table with Ned’s cards and presents (the budget eventually ran to a home-made pen pot from Max, a CD from me and a box of Maltesers from the dogs). He then put Dog and Dot’s red bandanas around their necks - a tradition now in the Marchant household for special occasions. Not considered as ‘clothes,’ because they’re just like an extra collar, and nowhere near as ridiculous as a hoodie or tutu.
Ned acted surprised like a true pro when he came into the kitchen and tucked heartily into his full English - only day of the year he ever gets it! Don’t do Domestic Goddess in the mornings I’m afraid.
Max didn’t think it was fair that his Daddy had to work on his birthday but I whispered to him that it meant we could get on with his birthday cake for tonight. And, as he wouldn’t be at F&J’s when Daddy blew out the candles, we could make an extra cake for a tea party when Ned got back from work.
The birthday boy set off with a belly full of fry-up saying he needed to go through his final list for tonight and, if he emailed me, would I sort his props out for him. Predictable, or what?
PM
Ned had been too busy to email me his prop list so he did his usual last minute frantics - only this time he enlisted Max’s help because he’d decided he wanted to keep his list top-secret from me. Heard a great deal of giggling going on in Max’s bedroom during their search.
Eventually left for F&J’s, clutching our hidden props in carrier bags and with Mum saying, “Shouldn’t you have a polo neck on under that top? Your bosoms will catch their death!”
Saturday 20th December
Another ridiculous time had by all last night. You can learn an awful lot about people on a Room 101 night.
We were fed a great meal and plied with far too much alcohol and then we got down to business. Fenella said we all had to write each of our pet-hates on a piece of card and then present our case to the others who had to vote on whether or not they should go into Room 101 - a paper shredder, in this instance.
Lots of heated discussion and daft banter as we all fought to get ours accepted for destruction.
Eventually we agreed to put them all in!
Fenella’s:
The word ‘moist’ (represented by a pair of wet knickers!)
“It’s just so horrid and makes me think of panty-liners. And I certainly don’t want to eat a cake that someone describes as ‘moist!’ Yuck!”
Holes (hole punched sheet of A4 and a piece of Swiss cheese)
“What might crawl through them? I don’t know if there could be a spider or something lurking behind!”
Zits (a ball of cream cheese in clingfilm and stuck on her chin)
“Zits at my age? Aren’t wrinkles enough?”
Josh’s:
Fenella’s rice pudding (something that looked like a bowl of cold sick)
“Need I say more?”
Golf (a chewed up golf ball)
“Bloody expensive walk that you can’t even take the dogs on!”
Kids with green snot (one of Charlotte’s dollies with a bit of green play-dough)
“Wipe the bloody kid’s nose and don’t leave it hanging there for me to have to look at.”
Ned’s:
Corned beef (a tin of Prince’s finest he’d picked up on the way home.)
“Half the stuff was buried in the ground for years - don’t expect me to eat it.”
Credit card bills (a fake one he’d made on the computer - didn’t want F&J to see a real one!)
“I know I’ve spent the money but do I really have to pay it back and why is the interest so high?”
Dogs as accessories (‘Stuffed Dog’ in a handbag with one of my t-shirts on. Now I know what all the giggling with Max was about.)
“Get a proper dog and treat it like one. Get it out of the handbag, naked and rolling in puddles.”
Mine:
Meemies (a Barbie doll picked up at the Pound Shop)
“Stop making us all feel insecure about ourselves. It’s not fair!”
Women who pop out babies left right and centre (a pillow which I couldn’t quite get to go up the bustière, but they got the general idea)
“Stop making me feel like a failure - it’s not fair!”
MG (a little cardboard figure I’d put together from a picture I’d found on the Internet - looking all voluptuous and wanton, the cow)
“Stop being so perfect - it’s not fair!”
We then went on to come up with ridiculous ideas for what might be Gestapo’s 101’s. These included: Poor people, naked dogs, the smell of smoked salmon, potato farmers, breaking an acrylic on a bagel and … “Libby - because she’s just too bloody perfect. IT’S NOT FAIR!”
Sunday 21st December AM
Last day of freedom before our Mums arrive for their Christmas break. Can’t think why mine insists on coming by train every Christmas when she gets here by cab every other time - bet she does it so that the cab driver can’t cotton on that she’s away for a few days and go and steal her precious Royal Doulton!
Did final tidy up and hoover and decided we’d make the most of the day and take Max ice-skating at Kew. Gave Fenella a call to see if they wanted to join us and we agreed to meet at two.
A bit apprehensive as I haven’t skated for years and was never particularly good. Just hope I don’t break anything or we’ll have to put up with Mum cooking Christmas dinner and I’d never hear the end of it - or have enough Rennies to cope.
PM
Fenella and I decided that breasts and skating don’t combine well. Neither of us could get our balance and we both have large racks so that must have something to do with it. Ned, Max, Josh, Todd and Charlotte don’t have them and they could all skate like pros.
To support our theory, the flat chested Gnome was there with her kids, zooming around like a proper little Jane Torvil. No need to add that hubbie, Letchy Dad, was on the sidelines eyeing up the lycra clad bums!
Fenella and I thought it would be much more civilised to let the dads get on with it and we’d sit and drink yummy lattes. The Gnome caught up with us, cheeks flushed from her exertions and the obvious need to impart vital information to us.
“Hi gels. Have you heard the dreadful news? Araminta’s husband’s been caught doing a dodgy deal in the City - really quite a biggie. He could end up behind bars for it and they may well lose everything. Of course, she’s devastated. Anyway, have a super Chrissie. Ciao!”
Fenella and I looked at one another in total shock. As usual Fenella spoke first. “What a nasty little madam she is. How can she claim to be Gestapo’s friend and then quite happily go bandying gossip like that around? Surely it’s not meant to be common knowledge?”
Poor Gestapo! All was beginning to become crystal clear and, not for the first time, I found myself feeling sorry for her. It’s one thing to ‘not have’ but to ‘have and lose’ would be a bitter pill to swallow - and one that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.
Monday 22nd December AM
The mothers arrive and Ned breaks up from work!
Collected the mums from the station and just about managed to get all their luggage in the car - thank heavens I didn’t have Fenella’s anymore - ours might be old, but at least it’s got a decent sized boot - how much stuff do they need for a short break?
They did their usual, “ My, don’t you look well,” to one another but I know full well that at some point they’ll both come to me and say the other one is looking old/tired/grey - the politics of mothers-in-law.
Took them both home and let them settle while I prepared homemade soup, salad and crusty bread. A meal that I hoped would please them both, which isn’t easy. No garlic for Mum, no salt for Ria, no pasta for Mum,
no rice for Ria - the lists are endless and if I dare to slip up once, I’ll pay dearly for it.
The soup was declared, “Very tasty” by Ria and “A bit bland” by Mum. The salad, “Perfect” as opposed to “Limp.” The bread, “Such a lovely crust.” And “Almost broke my bloody dentures.”
Oh boy, this could be a long Christmas!
PM
Both mums lightened up a bit with a couple of glasses of wine in them and a few sausage rolls - something they could both agree to eat and even enjoy.
I was so looking forward to Ned coming home for his Christmas break and really beginning to get into the spirit.
Until I saw him walk through the door.
I guess I knew instantly but I still needed to get verbal confirmation from him - the bastards had made him redundant two days before Christmas.
For once Mum found the ounce of tact that she possesses and said that she and Ria would nip next door to Mrs S for a drink to give us time to talk.
Didn’t help when I heard her saying as they took off down the path, “Of course Ria, I knew this would happen. They’ve bitten off far more than they can chew you know.”
Tuesday 23rd December
After the initial shock last night we managed to have a reasonably pleasant evening. Ned said there was no point in worrying about it now and ruining everyone’s Christmas and, anyway, his redundancy package would see us through for a little while.
Think we both assumed the ‘ostrich’ for the sake our guests and Max. No way could we let on to him that we were worried or miserable. It’s Christmas and he can’t look back on this one as a flop.
As Ned cuddled up to me last night he whispered, “We’ll get through this Lib. I won’t let you down.”
I hope he’s right but I also think it’s time for me to start considering my own bread-winning options. It’s not fair to put all the pressure on him.
Just have to tell myself I’m not falling from as great a height as Gestapo. No more Gucci for her, probably just Jigsaw. No more M&S for me, just … well, whatever’s in my wardrobe I suppose!
It’s all relative …
Wednesday 24th December
Christmas Eve!
Christmas Eve has always been my favourite part of the season. Most of the hard work has been done and all the good stuff is stretching ahead of you.
Gave Mrs S her Christmas present as she set off to spend the festive season with Pritesh and his siblings. She ritualistically slipped me his mobile number as she waved goodbye, “Just in case you need a break from that Neddy-Man. It cannot be easy now that he is not able to provide for you. You will always be welcome in the hearts of the Sengupta family.”
There I was thinking that her business venture had taken her mind off all that nonsense - lulled into a false sense of security.
Mum and Ria generously offered to go off to Waitrose to pick up the last few bits we needed and categorically refused to take any money. Mum was spouting off, “Charity begins at home, Libby and, boy, is this a home that needs it right now!” Ria was looking at her tight-lipped and disapproving. Mum’s more or less implying that Ned can’t support his family and we’re doomed for the soup kitchen .
Did as much of the food preparation for tomorrow as possible and then started to put together a ginger-bread house with Max and Ned. An activity we won’t be repeating. Looks so easy on the box but the gooey, sugary glue stuck to just about everything except the walls it was meant to be holding together. Looked a bit like a semi-demolished bungalow by the time we’d finished but Max was happy and decorated it with sweets and icing pens. The dogs, in festive bandanas, realised it was another red letter day and enjoyed the spillages.
Fenella called at about three to see if we wanted to go for drinks and nibbles around six. When I asked why she wasn’t at her parents as planned she simply said, “Oh Mummy decided she couldn’t be arsed to do it this year so she called last night and said they’re bringing everything to us instead. It’s chaos here but we’d love for you to come!”
Can’t understand how she takes it all in her stride! I’d be tearing my hair out if I thought I was going away and then found I had everyone descending on me instead - I guess having the space and the dosh makes it slightly easier though.
Told Mum and Ria we’d been invited to F&J’s and they both scurried away upstairs to find something suitable to wear - no doubt something sparkly for Mum and something beige and classic for Ria (don’t think I’ve ever seen her in another colour!)
What a motley bunch we must have looked as we set off - two scruffy dogs in bandanas with Christmas elves on, Max in his new tartan pyjama’s and coat, Mum in a red and green velvet trouser suit (very festive but not very forgiving) and Ria in a beige polo neck, beige skirt, beige coat and matching headscarf.
Think Ned and I looked fairly normal. Although we’d both opted for the head to toe black look and Mum enquired as to where the funeral was.
I T’ S C H R I S T M A S !!!!!!!!!!!
Thursday 25th December
Christmas Day
Far too busy to write but just snuck upstairs for a quick breather and a scribble.
Father Christmas brought lots of goodies and two massive hangovers for our mothers. They overdid it a bit on the bubbly last night and ended up around the piano with Fenella’s mum having a whale of a time.
Had to drag them away at around nine because we wanted to get Max to bed. Don’t think they were very happy, but their alcoholic intake needed to be clamped down on pronto.
They were both rather liverish this morning and Ria sat opening her presents looking about as beige as her dressing gown. Expect they’ll both have a little kip later.
Elle’s looking very well and happy with Rob. Harriet had actually ditched the corporate look for the day and was looking very laid back in a pair of jeans.
A good day, so far.
Friday 26th December
Boxing Day.
Just us and the mothers now so all a little quieter.
Thank goodness they’re going home tomorrow. It’s always the same with them - a bit like when Max has a friend over for the day. Everything starts off swimmingly with perfect manners - then they move on to the fun part where they get on like a house on fire but soon the boredom sets in and they start getting snappy and niggly with one another.
The mums are now at that stage. With kids you can give them a good telling off and, if necessary, separate them. Sadly we can’t do that with our mothers, so we’re left to put up with it.
Fortunately Max and Ned are totally oblivious and happily playing with boys’ toys.
This morning, Mum moaned to me that Ria hasn’t lifted a hand the whole time she’s been here - totally untrue.
Then Ria moaned to Ned that Mum had spent too long in the shower and used all the hot water - true.
They then had a huge blow up at lunch about the best uses for leftover turkey.
Left them to it and went for a walk with the dogs.
Saturday 27th December
Freedom!
Deposited the mothers at the station - hooray!
Of course, by the time we got back yesterday they were the best of friends again, swapping book titles and favourite authors - wanted to bash their permed heads together but Ned wouldn’t let me.
Anyway, they’ve gone and we can relax. Although, with the distraction of Christmas over, I think Ned’s beginning to panic a bit about his jobless state.
Who knows what the New Year will bring? Let’s hope it’s a massive lottery win or a fantastic offer for Ned.
NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTIONS
Drink less
Eat less
Stop smoking
Stop having boy next door dreams - or at least stop dwelling on them
Walk to school more often
Try not to resent the wealthy
Come up with fantastic business idea and become wealthy myself
Don’t know why I bother with resolutions, I never keep them. Although
I did become more domestic godessy this year, even if I slipped on occasions.
Can’t believe MG keeps it up all the time anyway - bet she eats pizza in her dressing gown sometimes. Although hers is probably silk and without food stains of any description.
Wash dressing gown.
Sunday 28th December
Fenella called to say that it’s both her and Josh’s birthday on New Year’s Eve and would we like to go to them for dinner.
Felt it only fair that we offered to have them here as she’d done Ned’s birthday and who wants to cook on their birthday anyway?