Easter bunny honours
I've spent the weekend with the kids and I'm really feeling in need of adult company or even any company that doesn't involve a toddler on the loose. It would be nice to do something with the other kids that doesn't get constantly interrupted because of some potential disaster like the toddler flooding the bathroom or choking on a small Easter egg or strangling the cat with love.
I've had some snatched interactions with the girls. We played a game of 20 questions the other day, for instance. It was made somewhat difficult by daughter two telling us that her person was a dead actor who turned out to be Justin Timberlake. Daughter one then took a turn. "It's an old man," she said. "Well, maybe middle aged." I said that meant he must be about my age. "No, that's old aged, Mum," she said. "He's probably in his late 20s or early 30s." She has taken to calling music from the 80s 'old people music' even though half of the bands she likes do cover versions of said old people music. She has now taught the toddler all the names of One Direction and he lists them in the morning alongside his sisters as if they are actual members of the family.
My partner got home late last night. That meant Easter bunny honours went to me. I'm afraid I was not so much hopping as doing a zombie-like shuffle by the time late Saturday night came around. No-one wanted to move on Easter Sunday so we stayed in and made plasticine ladybirds and I tried really hard to stay awake, although my whole body was crying out for sleep. I could do with a sabbatical, more from home than work life, even if it's just for a weekend. I tried to explain it to the toddler. "Mummy is a bit frazzled at the moment and a tad on the edge," I said as he looked deep into my eyes, probably contemplating his next experiment mixing Easter egg and Ribena. "Mummy needs a break. Do you understand?" He opened his eyes wide and looked very concerned. "Chesh," he said in his deep little voice and promptly trotted off to put all the taps on in the bathroom.