Seventeen. Seventeen was my best year: carefree, hedonistic and fun! Not words I would choose to describe my eldest son's initiation into his seventeenth year.
A rugby injury, when he was head- dumped in the scrum, has left him angry with his inability to tackle men or life in general. Any request to lift anything above the weight of a feather has resorted in a grimace; an ask to involve himself in family life has also resulted in whimpers of pain. However, since the injury has now been deemed as muscular damage by doctor, physio and a higher being ( ME), he can at least attempt to engage with the idea of a party. Funny that since girls have entered his sixth form!
Requirements from injured soul:
1. Do not look at my friends
2. Do not talk to my friends
3. Leave the building
4. Do not eavesdrop on any conversation
Requirements from me:
1. I will meet and greet
2. No one goes upstairs
3. Bass is turned down
4. Music off at 12
Negotiations from son:
1. You may meet but not greet nor make eye contact - I have a Medusa stare and appreciate his need for his friends not to be turned to stone!
2. You will not listen to any conversations - yeah, yeah get realistic as that is going to happen?!
Negotiations from me:
1. I will leave the building - I only agreed to the interior sucker!
2. I will play decent music music quietly upstairs on my return - The Spice Girls baby boy!
Still a subject of debate:
From him:
1. Why can he not berate me for being a total embarrassment - all the time, party or no party?
2. Why should he allow me to meet his friends as I am a total loser freak?
From me:
1. Why can I not discuss the fact that rugby players have small....?
2. Why am I paying for this party? Clearly I have " mug" written on my head!
Deal breaker on both parts:
His: me breathing
Me: not being allowed to laugh at his growing moobs! ( not true but mummy mafia weaponry)
Wednesday 11 December 2013
Tuesday 10 December 2013
Bed Breaking News
Yet again a broken bed!
The boys have been through four in six years.
First bed death: three jumping up and down on top bunk in time to " We are the champions of the World", during an important football victory, which resulted in two needing plasters and one needing staples - death followed soon afterwards - those poor, poor bed slats, may they rest in peace.
Second bed death: five thirteen year old males decided to run and bellyflop with full weight onto unsuspecting bed. Result, instant collapse and death.
Third bed death: gradual and slow drawn out demise due to constant use as fight club arena for twins. Bruised, ruptured and haemorrhaging it eventually gave up.
Fourth and, hopefully, the final bed death: eldest son's bed. Reason for death - over use of fourteen stone rugby prop dreaming, I presume, of next match. I can only presume this is the case,as no human male or female would enter his lair without need of a tetanus jab, yet the noises emitting this feral hole seem akin to the NZ Haka! So either he sings the New Zealand chant of his step father subconsciously; or has sleep apnea and is gasping for air, writhing around maniacally with a desperate bed breaking need to breath or he is tugging on his favourite - that climatic call of every male in England ......that first try!
The boys have been through four in six years.
First bed death: three jumping up and down on top bunk in time to " We are the champions of the World", during an important football victory, which resulted in two needing plasters and one needing staples - death followed soon afterwards - those poor, poor bed slats, may they rest in peace.
Second bed death: five thirteen year old males decided to run and bellyflop with full weight onto unsuspecting bed. Result, instant collapse and death.
Third bed death: gradual and slow drawn out demise due to constant use as fight club arena for twins. Bruised, ruptured and haemorrhaging it eventually gave up.
Fourth and, hopefully, the final bed death: eldest son's bed. Reason for death - over use of fourteen stone rugby prop dreaming, I presume, of next match. I can only presume this is the case,as no human male or female would enter his lair without need of a tetanus jab, yet the noises emitting this feral hole seem akin to the NZ Haka! So either he sings the New Zealand chant of his step father subconsciously; or has sleep apnea and is gasping for air, writhing around maniacally with a desperate bed breaking need to breath or he is tugging on his favourite - that climatic call of every male in England ......that first try!
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