by Amanda Egan
What an odd team they made.
Gestapo had volunteered her services to make tea and coffee as “Paper plays havoc with my acrylics and I can’t afford to get them seen to as regularly as I used to.”
Mrs S harrumphed at the pointed remark and soldiered on with her envelope stuffing. I then saw the most subtle of smiles creep over her face.
“I am thinking we should all be taking a little break for refreshments now and while we are partaking, Desmond can give us a little light entertainment.”
While Gestapo reluctantly dragged her tight little designer bum into the kitchen, Mrs S removed Desmond from his cage and took him through his warm-up.
Gestapo nearly dropped the tray in shock when she re-entered the room to Desmond bopping along and whistling his Manilow debut.
I’m almost certain I heard Mrs S mumble, “That will be showing you, you stuck up bitch!” as she replaced Desmond in his cage.
PM
Ned seems to be spending more and more time at work lately. Possibly because I’m always chasing my tail but probably because he knows we’re not likely to be having sex any time soon.
I’m not proud of my lack of interest but it’s just the way it is at the moment - not a spark or a glimmer of desire.
Frigid, that’s me. Get me to a nunnery.
Thursday 13th November
Patience has proved to be worth her weight in gold in the fair organisation. She happily approaches mums at the school gates and attempts to enlist their services.
She’s also very good at ignoring their snubs and readily accepting the eager offers of help from flirting dads. She’s single-handedly booked fifteen fantastic outside stall holders to sell their goods (calling in old favours from her creative friends), secured a bouncy castle and Buckin’ Bronco and sourced and bought all the prizes for the kids’ mini-games.
“These bloody women will accept me if it kills me.” She said when she called me with an update.
Didn’t have the heart to tell her that their acceptance will only really come when they find out who she is. And then, would it be worth anything?
PM
Had to put all fair business on back burner so that we could finalise details for the auction tomorrow night.
At least we’ve already sold all the tickets for it so we can be fairly certain of raising a respectable amount.
If I know the Manor Housers, once that competitive streak kicks in there’ll be no stopping them and their filthy lucre will be rolling into our coffers.
Mwah, ha ha ha!
Friday 14th November
Auction of Promises
Actually went to a decent hairdresser’s today because that’s what ‘mummies with money’ do.
Boy, now I know why that’s what ‘mummies with money’ do! - she’s taken years off me, as well as quite a few quid, and I don’t look like a Sad-Sack anymore.
Hand has almost hovered on the debit card for a bit of Botox - but I know deep down I’ll never actually do it. I can allow myself some expensive slap now so it will all be down to smoke and mirrors.
Have to admit I looked rather tasty as I set off for our evening of fleecing the Manor House parents.
Then I got a bit worried that Ned might think I looked hot and want a bit of action tonight - cos that is so not going to happen.
Saturday 15th November
Our cunning plan seemed to deliver everything it said on the tin.
The monied set couldn’t bear to be outdone and Olivia-the-auctioneer worked them like the pro she used to be.
Admittedly it took quite a lot of white wine to get her into her stride (clearly taught Fenella everything she knows) but, shit, was she good!
Most ‘lots’ went for way above what we’d expected and, by the time we poured a lubricated Olivia into a cab, we appeared to have exceeded our target.
It was hilarious to watch mummies jabbing daddies in the ribs to outbid other mummies. We couldn’t have picked a more perfect way of extracting cash from them - all thoughts of where the funds would be allocated were forgotten, it became a pure game of one-upmanship.
Mr Rooney (“call me Dan”) cornered me and once again I felt the faintest of (guilty) stirrings. How does he do that?
“I’m not wrong in saying that you find all this a bit daft, am I?” he asked. “You just don’t strike me as ‘the type’ to be obsessed with possessions or status.”
Told him I didn’t know what he was talking about. I just want a decent education for my son and if I can ‘do my bit’ to help others on that path, that’s all that matters.
Couldn’t help but have a little giggle with him though when Barbie almost gave her husband heart-failure pushing him to his absolute limit for a crappy piece of artwork that looked like a shit on a plate.
Had some rather pleasant dreams which woke me with a warm and fuzzy glow.
Strange, but none of them involved my husband sleeping soundly beside me.
Sunday 16th November
Very early morning call, demanding we go to F&J’s for Sunday lunch and ‘Auction Post Mortem’.
How could we refuse? There’s nothing like catching up on others’ stories about an evening. Would love to share my ‘Dan Moment’ with Fenella, but not so sure that would be a wise move - she’s got a mouth like the Mersey Tunnel.
PM
Feeling a little deflated as I write.
We may not have raised quite as much money as we originally thought.
Fenella told us that Olivia had heard a few sob stories as cheques had been handed over.
It pains and angers me all over again to write them down, but here are a few of the best:
“Humour me, the little woman will make my life a living hell if I back down now, but this cheque will probably bounce.”
“I know I bid a grand, but can we get it down to five hundred?”
“If I get you a reference for admission to ‘The Harbour Club’ can we negotiate?”
And then, Letchy’s finest, “You’re a fine filly for your age, let’s come to an arrangement that suits both of us, shall we?”
Of course Olivia was too tanked up to deal with the situations as they arose and didn’t want to cause a scene.
I guess we’ll just have to wait and see how it all pans out - but can’t help thinking what a sad bunch of bastards to only care about keeping up appearances and not give a shit about the cause or wasting our time!
Monday 17th November
So the final figures show that we’ll probably have made somewhere in the region of 20 grand. Not quite as much as our expectations on the evening but the lots that went tits up will now go in the raffle for the Christmas fair this Saturday!
God, I could quite happily put my hands round some scrawny little mummies’ necks and throttle them right now. I can’t believe it’s all fallen to us again - bloody dog’s bodies, that’s what we are.
Felt it was all worthwhile when Max came home from school excited about the fair with his envelope of raffle tickets in his bag.
I knew he was overly hyped because he was rambling without stopping to draw breath.
“Can we buy all these tickets mummy, can we? Cos then we might win. Am I going to see the Father Christmas there? I know it’s not the real one, cos Daddy did it last year. He was good mummy, wasn’t he? What’s a MILF?”
I have to admit, I’d tuned out to a lot of what he’d been saying as I’d been too busy bagging up lucky dip prizes. But I did stop in my tracks at his last comment.
And I played for time - like any panicked mother.
“A what, darling?” And I was praying that I’d misheard him.
“A MILF, Mummy. I heard Mr Rooney in the staff room saying that you were one. Are you?”
Time stood still at that moment and so many things were racing through my head - I didn’t know whether to be shocked or flattered but what I did know was I had to rapidly come up with an explanation that would satisfy my son.
“A MILF, darling … a
MILF is a … it’s a Mummy in a Lacy Frock. Yes that’s what it is. Remember my nice black one?”
“Oh!” He carried on sorting out his book bag. “What’s a frock?”
Tuesday 18th November
“A mummy in a lacy frock?!” Fenella choked on her Irn Bru when I told her. “Oh, Lib that’s hilarious! And very clever of you. I bet you were shitting it. Oooer, goss on the gates, the gorgeous Dan’s got the hots for Mrs Marchant.”
Told her to shut up and get on with the Christmas bunting - our first job for the day. Tedious but necessary.
Think I might have had a secret little smile on my face as I worked but I made sure Fenella didn’t spot it.
PM
Ned actually came home from work on time tonight - a first for a long time.
We enjoyed Nigella’s ‘Succulent Breasts’ and shared a bottle of Pinot.
I made sure I didn’t mention Rooney-Gate - didn’t seem fair really. There’s no action in the Marchant household at the moment so I felt the information was best kept to myself.
Felt a bit odd really because, once upon a time, we would have had no qualms about sharing anything.
Wednesday 19th November
CCL
Got another meeting tonight and I feel a bit nervy. I don’t think I’ve ever been called a MILF before and I’m not sure how to act. Am I giving off the wrong signals?
The last known person to fancy me was Pritesh and that was all a bit of harmless fun stoked up by Mrs S.
Just going to pretend to myself that Max never told me what he’d heard and carry on as normal.
Did take extra special care getting ready for the meeting and wore my new lace dress over leggings and boots.
Ned made sure he was home in time to look after Max who, when he saw what I was wearing said “Oh, look Mummy, you’re a MILF again” as he left the kitchen to head upstairs for some Lego.
I looked at a perplexed Ned and muttered, “Milk, he said he wants to have some milk,” as I grabbed my bag to leave.
PM
Ned was snoring when I got home (thankfully) so decided to get on and work through some stuff for Saturday.
The meeting went well, apart from Fenella nudging me every time Dan spoke to me or smiled at me - will need to have words with her and maybe offer her hush money.
Hinge & Bracket were pleased with the Auction of Promises profits and unfazed by the parents who had reneged on their deals - methinks they’ve seen it time and time again.
Dan offered to help us with the set up of the fair on Friday night and I found myself mentally flicking through my wardrobe for ‘casual but sexy mummy’ wear.
(Need to stop that immediately. Have perfectly good husband already awaiting a service and such thoughts must stop.) Bad mummy.
Shergar and Barbie both turned up late, talked between themselves the whole time and then left early after helping themselves to a nice relaxing glass of wine. Surprised? Moi? Not anymore!
Dress-up Mummy was a no show. Probably O/D’d on dope-cake or happy pills.
Letchy letched and did little else, although he has volunteered to man the ‘Buckin’ Bronco’ on Saturday. Hope he realises that it’s for the kids and he’s unlikely to get to grips helping any hot totty-botty into the saddle.
Considering we’ve had to hotch-potch this fair together so quickly, I think we’re rather in control.
Thursday 20th November
Popped into Mrs S after school drop off to see how she was getting on with her jobs.
All seemed to be in order until I noticed the sacks of Santa’s Grotto presents. They were all wrapped in the same paper - a glitzy, sparkly gold and silver which we hadn’t provided her with. I remember we’d given her colour coded paper so that the ‘elves’ could tell if it was a present for a boy or a girl, a toddler or an older child.
“Ah Libbybeta, I see you are looking at the pretty, twinkly paper ‘Miss Royal-Stupidness’ gave me - she said it made all the presents look more inviting.”
Bloody Gestapo sticking her nose-job in where it’s not wanted! I couldn’t have a go at Mrs S. It’s not her fault that she’d forgotten about our ‘elf code’.
But this now means we have approximately 300 gifts to unwrap and re-wrap, all thanks to ‘Miss Sticky-Beak.’
Called Fenella and Patience, thanked Mrs S for all her help and took the sacks of presents back home.
Fenella arrived first and took off her coat to reveal pyjamas and Ugg boots.
“Shit day Lib, so thought I’d have a duvet day.”
Felt really bad for dragging her from her bed but she insisted we were in this together and we’d get through it.
Thought we were doing quite well until Patience arrived with Starbucks coffee and croissants for us and asked, “I take it she didn’t do the same thing with the 1200 lucky dip prizes?”
She had!
PM
My back’s breaking and I have no nails left.
I went to collect all the kids from school and brought them all back here to play whilst we made our way through the piles of gifts, putting things in order.
Skunk and Silver came to pitch in again but, thankfully, no Gestapo or Pritesh. Have a feeling she may have been lynched if she’d shown her stinking face.
Ordered take-away for the troops and realised at nine that Ned still wasn’t home.
Fortified ourselves by opening another bottle of wine and carried on wrapping.
Friday 21st November
Fair set-up
So we’re all systems go for tomorrow - I have no idea how, but we are.
Dressed casually in jeans (which lift my bottom) and floaty top (which Ned always says makes my boobs look good) - not for Dan’s benefit, I hasten to add. Just because I feel more in control if I think I look good.
Really, I do.
Anyway my list for today is:
Collect the hotdog machine, sausage and buns.
Collect urns for tea, coffee and mulled wine.
Collect candyfloss machine.
Set up Santa’s Grotto.
Set up raffle prizes.
Set up tombola with all tickets on items (approx 300)
Get to school for 4pm to supervise set up of all the other stalls
Stick broom up bum and sweep floor as I go.
The truly frightening thing is Fenella and Patience have lists which are equally as long and Sarah, Eva and Jenny have extra jobs of their own.
If we make our way through it all, the God of Christmas Fairs will certainly have been smiling down on us.
PM
Well, we had the majority of our helpers turn up to muck in - a few let us down but we tend not to bat an eyelid now. It’s par for the course.
We worked like Trojans and got through everything we needed to. Dan helped me with the tricky bits in Santa’s grotto. Felt a bit exposed being in there on my own with him but he’s a really nice guy and was a great help.
We all got back together in the hall and opened a couple of bottles of the school wine at the end of the evening and made a toast to the success of the fair.
Shergar, Barbie and Dress-up Mummy arrived just as the last cork left the bottle.
“Oh, missed all the work have we?” Barbie asked. “Never mind eh? We’ll just have a little drinkie with you.”
Saw Patience swiftly remove a staple gun which was in danger of becoming a weapon from Fenella’s grasp.
Saturday 22nd November
Christmas Fair
Up at the crack of dawn and off to school to see how the day turned out. Had we done enough in the short time we had?
Max was up early and jumping on the bed to wake up Ned, who was bringing him along later. “Come on Daddy, we need to take Dog and Dot for a walk, get breakfast and get to school to spend my pocket money. I’m meeting Todd and Solomon there. Come on!”
Left a groaning Ned complaining that he never gets enough sleep.
Shouldn’t work so bloody late then, should he?
No s
ympathy, I’m afraid.
PM
I’ve never felt so tired in all my life.
Max and Ned are flaked out in front of ‘Finding Nemo’ viewing #23 (at least!)