It is all go here at the house of plague.
Oscar spent last night wringing wet with fever, but sleeping soundly throughout, even when I changed his bedclothes around him. This was an absolute blessing, as an over hot, itchy child is never, ever a good thing unless they are asleep.
This morning he crawled into bed with me, commando stylie, snaking his way up the duvet, and kicked me restfully in the back as a ‘surprise’. He was cool to touch, albeit still smothered in spots. His skin is remarkably bumpy. One could possibly read War and Peace simply by running ones fingers over his small, braille filled torso.
He spent the morning itchy and disgruntled until the piriton kicked in. Then he was just disgruntled. His dis was gruntled due to the fact that the trip to the Cotswold Wildlife Park with picnic that was supposed to be happening today with friends he loves dearly, got binned. This news was broken along with the similar news that tomorrow’s picnic with other lovely friends, plus the Spanish Easter party and the swimming lesson had all gone for a burton.
He was not impressed. The poor girls took it better, merely being wearily resigned.
Bless them.
After cogitating for a while I came up with a back up plan. This involves taking all our picnic food to granny’s tomorrow, and stopping en route to buy Easter eggs for an Easter egg hunt in her garden.
This soothed their agitated hearts and peace reigned once more.
We spent most of the afternoon making cardboard robots. I have been promising Oscar this great treat for several weeks now, and have been saving the recycling furiously. It turns out that I am pretty shit hot at making cardboard robots. Both Tallulah and Oscar who wanted me to make them for them were impressed, as was Jason when he got home. I am thinking that maybe I should start an Etsy shop selling my cardboard creations.
By the time I had done several, run out of cardboard, and then done running repairs on the robots we had, I was quite bored though. I think it may be only a fleeting thing. I cannot sustain interest in robots long enough to make sufficient stock to make my fortune. Tilly spent her time falling off her bicycle and making cardboard owls.
We also branched out into cardboard Romans. Not content with making a cardboard colosseum last week, we made writing tablets, complete with sharpened twigs and holders made from egg cartons. I was not as thrilled with these. I was bored after approximately two minutes. I don’t think they will catch on.
The rest of the day has been spent with me trying desperately to catch up on my reading back log, some of which is due to be reviewed this week, and falling asleep in between making sure the children have enough drinks, snacks, sympathy, discipline and health and safety.
By eight o’clock, an entire Mr. Gum novel read, two hot meals cooked, the kitchen floor swept fourteen times, three loads of washing and a lot of shards of cardboard swept up, I was in need of a drink.
Andrea bought me a bottle of my very best favourite, yellow label, Veuve Cliquot for my birthday. I decided to break glass in case of emergency. I invented a cocktail which involves lots of champagne, some raspberry chambord liqueur, half a passion fruit, and some frozen raspberries.
It has been an exciting evening. I have now decided that I am better than Tom Cruise in Cocktail, and possibly deserve some kind of award. After two hours and less than half a bottle of bubbly I am half cut, and mostly on the way to bed. I am a complete lightweight.
Jason’s ear is much less horrible today, so I am celebrating that, and the fact that Oscar, after not wanting to eat for two days, wolfed down his tea like a boy possessed. He is clearly on the mend, although still as spotty as hell.
Please dear cheezus, do not let the girls succumb to the plague too. I promise to be good, after this glass of wine.
