Diary of a Mummy Misfit #1 (28 page)

Eventually gathered that the main purpose of her call was to confirm that she’d been invited to us for Christmas, as she’d only “heard it via Elle and Harriett.”  When I told her of course she was invited, she said that was good as her train arrived at King’s Cross at midday on the 22
^nd
- which coincidentally was the same time as Ria, Ned’s Mum’s, train!  “That way it’s only one collection and not two.  Quite clever of us, don’t you think?”

Yes, very cunning indeed, Mum. 

Finished the conversation after insisting I really didn’t want a home electrolysis kit for Christmas.  “Oh but Libby, every peri menopausal woman should have one.  You don’t want those whiskers to get out of control, you’ll be a slave to them.”

And Ned definitely wouldn’t want the Brut Aftershave Gift Pack she’d already bought - bet that will now end up in the post with the Yardley contributions!

Spent the evening wrapping Father Christmas gifts in colour co-ordinated paper and bows as instructed.  Purple and gold for the girls, green and silver for the boys.

Ned slumped back with a glass of red wine after we’d hit the hundred mark and said, “Thank God that’s over.”

Didn’t have the heart to tell him there was another stash under the stairs with the lucky dip prizes.  Still haven’t asked him if he minds doing a stint as Father Christmas - damn, should have done that after last night’s bonk.  Remember for next time.

Oooh, next time?  Think I feel another early night coming on.

LATE, LATE, LATE!

Have just recruited my first Father Christmas.  Wish they were all as easy as that but I’d get myself quite a reputation at the Manor House gates if I used the same tactics.

Sunday 28
^th
September

Went to F&J’s for lunchtime drinks and ended up staying for lunch, evening drinks and Sunday tea.  Fenella was insisting that we stay as, “ Josh always buys half a hog or the back end of a cow when I send him to the butchers and then I’m left to come up with imaginative ways to use the rest of it up.  You’d be doing me a favour.”

Shaaaron phoned while we there.  Is
no
day sacred?  She and Poo had been discussing the cookery book and decided that children’s illustrations were too ‘cutesy’. Could we organise photos for the book?  Adding, “Sure it shouldn’t be too difficult and it will look so much more professional.  We’ll leave it in your capable hands!”

“They want blood, I tell you,” Fenella raged as she lit us both another Silk Cut.  Ned and Josh looked on disapprovingly but we were past caring.

Josh came up with the theory that at some point the committee members had been high-powereds who just needed to feel important by constantly upping the ante. “Don’t rise to it.  Just get on and do what you can with a quiet dignity.”

Fenella stubbed her ciggie, “That’s it, I’m taking ‘The Tao of Pooh’ out of the downstairs loo - I’m sick of your half arsed philosophising.  Go and carve the fatted calf while Lib and I finish bitching.”

Several bottles of wine and about forty fags later, we’d convinced ourselves we could do an excellent job of the photography ourselves - thereby saving money
and
coming across as fantastically well organised multi taskers.

We now have a camera full of photos of the roast, the gravy, the veg and, for some reason, Dog & Dot, Dog & Brown, Splodge & Dot, Dog, Splodge, Brown and Dot …

To review (and probably discard) in the morning.

Monday 29
^th
September

Slight hangover combined with ashtray-mouth.  Walked to school, as had sneaking suspicion I might be over the limit.  Met Fenella, who’d had the same idea and was sporting a huge pair of Jackie O sunglasses.  “Shit, Lib.  I don’t know if it’s you or the school that’s turned me into such a lush.  Sure I never used to have hangovers on a Monday.”

Yeah, right!

Went for coffee in the park as it’s the only place you’re allowed to smoke without feeling like a leper.

Came to the conclusion that it would be unworkable to photograph everyone’s culinary contributions so we’ll cheat and search Google for images that look vaguely representative of each dish.  Might get Mrs S on the job as I think she needs something to break her eBay addiction - so far she’s bought three pairs of leisure panties, a new swing for Bazzer-the-budgie, a 1950’s Babycham glass and a garden gnome.

When my mobile rang, I instantly panicked that it might be the school saying Max had had an accident or something - touch of ‘Lou-itis’.  Can’t say I was relieved to find that it was Poo.

“Libby, Hi. We’ve just been discussing the fair and decided we don’t want to deal in cash this year.  So tiresome having to count all those coins and notes!  Though it would be a good idea to have some kind of ‘Manor House Currency” - a bit like Monopoly notes - that people can purchase prior to and on the day of the fair at a little ‘bank’ you can set up in the office.  If you could arrange multiples of 50p, £1, £5 and £10 that would be great.  Leave it to you then, shall we?”

Took me a while to convey the message to Fenella as I was in some kind of trauma-induced trance.

“What bollocks,” was all Fenella managed when I finally spluttered it out. “It seems as if no sooner we deal with one insane idea another one pops up.”

Both lit another fag and stared blindly into the distance, like a couple of asylum inmates on day release.

Tuesday 30
^th
September  AM

Still trying to get our heads around the ‘funny money’ idea.

Ned and Josh seem to think they’ve got it sussed.  The maximum amount of work for
us, prior
to the fair, creates the minimum amount of work for the
committee, after
the fair.

Seems more like a plot to send us raving mad. 

Fenella jokingly suggested we string up some washing lines in her kitchen to let all the notes dry and then store them neatly in one of Josh’s old brief cases in the cellar - wouldn’t want them falling into the wrong hands, would we?

Heaven help us all but, in particular, the two manic women who seem to be happily taking on these banal tasks - can only imagine we were very evil in previous lives or very stupid in our present ones.

PM

Eventually came up with a suitable idea for each denomination of note and a rota for selling them in the weeks leading up to the fair.

Mobile
and landline have been ringing non-stop.  I figure if I ignore them and don’t check email, I’ll manage to stay ahead.

Won’t let the bastards get me down.

Final text from Fenella as I fell in to bed:

SORRY, HON!  JUST WNTED 2 TELL U … I KNOW WE AGREED NOT TO BUT ANSWERED MY FONE BY MISTAKE.  EMERGENCY MEET WITH WITCHES AT 09.00 HOURS @ SKOOL.  DON’T KNOW WHAT ABOUT.  HAVE ANOTHER FAG AND WINE AND DON’T LET THE BASTARDS GET U DOWN.  C U THERE.  XX

Have resorted to ostrich routine again but, alarmingly, had another Delhi Delight dream.

Wednesday 1
^st
October  AM

Emergency fair meeting - about ???

Of all the days to wake up with a pulsating zit, size 12’s crow’s feet and gravity-defying hair it had to be today.

Tried to perform beauty miracles while feeding stroppy child and under-the-feet-dogs.  Max had the hump because Mia doesn’t want to be his friend anymore - broken hearted at five.  She won’t sit next to him at circle time and keeps poking her tongue out at him - which incidentally is green.  Assume it’s something to do with the Energy Drink and not toxins.

She’s bloody lucky to have
any
boys after her with a tongue colour. Tried to placate him and told him that girls often do stuff like that if they really like a boy.

“But that’s just daft, Mummy.  You don’t do that with Daddy and you really like
him.”

Wasn’t really the morning for the whole ‘Venus/Mars’ discussion so just gave him an extra box of raisins and told him to see if they’d win her over, “Ladies always like gifts,” I explained as I bundled him into the car with his book bag, sports bag and lunch box - how they ever expect these kids to cycle to school is beyond me.

Contemplating the dreaded meeting ahead as I drove.  Hair plonked up in deliberate ‘casual mess’ and half a ton of Miracle Elixir and foundation had left me looking vaguely polished.  Wore best jeans, t-shirt and tailored jacket to come across as efficiently in control - the antithesis to what I was actually feeling.

Dropped Max off and noticed Mia looking across at him and doing the hair flicky thing all of us girls seem to do when keen. God we start young don’t we?  Don’t think he’s got anything to worry about in the lurve department.

Met Fenella in the staff room where we sat and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

“Well, we’ve obviously got nothing better to do than sit and wait for the coven to arrive, have we?” Fenella reached in her bag for her Silk Cuts then realised where she was and put them back.  Think our rediscovered addiction could be spiralling out of control.

Jenny appeared with coffee for us and said that Shaaaron had just called to say she was running late, “issues with the gardener”, and would be with us within the next ten minutes.