My three youngest sons have gone to camp - Scout's camp and I remain in my hovel with my sixteen year old, who after his GSCES, swallowed the code of chivalry - not sure which knight but hopefully not Lancelot, as I can't face angry souls on my doorstep demanding their daughters' justice. However, after a local work experience, during which young mothers commented on his beauty (they need to go to SpecSavers), and trustworthiness, perhaps he is akin to Galahad - pure. Whatever! All I know as a mother, he is a joy to be around - rugby obsessed, cleans the house, goes to the gym ----- Oh Lordy, now I am scared. This is not my son and clearly he must be waiting for the most opportune moment to launch something momentous on me. such as: "Mum, you are a grandmother" or that he has found religion. Well, until I receive either bombshell, I will live in ignorant bliss that he likes life and has a new found fondness for me.
Yet, my house is quiet. I took "Double Trouble" out for their 15th birthday, the day before camp, and all I had to endure was: "Shut up you melt!" directed at each other rather than the Tourettes' outbursts of last year. Apparently, "melt" is some sort of endearment. So all was all peachy or so I thought.
No. Once the three youngest were sent off to dig pits and build tents and the eldest was clearly reading the Bible or some such (or having a rave whilst I was away), I alighted a train at Waterloo to travel into the depths of Corporate (I'm so much better than you coz I earn mega bucks) Land. Entrenched in the "Quiet Zone" I felt I was safe reading a book, after all, for the last week my life had been peachy and QUIET. No. I was made to endure the life of QC Bla Bla and his inability to persuade his eldest son to pick up his youngest daughter from Haselmere train station. Now I was able to know he was a QC because he decide to sit next to me and bray loudly about his job to wife, whilst stroking her inner thigh - really not cool as, call me a prude, but some things are private! His wife, after telling him he was : "Immense and really yummy" (how are those terms at all appropriate - EVER), ineffectually begged so called eldest son to pick up daughter with a piercing whine.: "Darling, Daddy and are delayed and it is so very rude for us = to turn up to a dinner party late- we would pick up your sister but time is tight - so, I know you are really busy with your friends gaming on Xbox (clearly a hip mum,) but I would so appreciate it if you could pick up your sister from the station. I know you are a bit "miffed" (really? How? He's playing a game!!!) right now but please answer mine and Daddy's calls. Darling, please sweetie, we know you had plans but it's really upsetting when you hung up" Sorry, DARLING, it was really upsetting that you were whining down your mobile in the QUIET ZONE AT ALL. HELLO I AM NEXT TO YOU! Am I a beast? Seriously, I would be arriving home and unplugging XBox and taking away keys to "spoilt brat's" car. I know they had bought it for him recently because they whimpered together that perhaps they should have bought him a better model and maybe he wouldn't be ashamed to drive it, It wasn't rational but now I wanted to pull on all of my Tourettes Twins obscenities and scream at them full force in the QUIET ZONE. QCA Bla BLa was reassuring his wife by stroking further up her thigh. I needed a sick bag,
.Is it rude not to go to a dinner party on time? Rude for your son, at possibly 17 plus, to have a hissy fit so he doesn't answer your calls about picking up his sister from the station, with a car you idiots have bought for him? Or RUDE to speak very loudly in the QUIET ZONE - it is meant to be QUIET. My boys are beginning to behave and they are 16, 15 and 9! Why can't QC Bla BLa , with all his wealth and education, and his family behave too? It wasn't "Oh So Quiet" on South West trains and "Zing Boom" I would have "Blown a Fuse" had they not descended from the train!
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