Peter and Jane And The Barbecue.

Today is quite a sunny day.

Peter and Jane are going to have a barbecue for dinner, because that, along with cutting the grass, is what British people do as soon as there is a glimmer of sun.

Peter and Jane have been playing in the paddling pool, and also on some godawful thing that Granny gave them called a 'Slip'n'Slide' which is basically a cunning device for maiming children.

After Mummy mopped up the blood and 

steri-stripped Peter's chin back together and iced the large lump on Jane's head, and quelled the hysterical screaming with Jelly Babies, she confiscated the Slip'n'Slide and called Granny a very rude name under her breath.

Daddy has cut the grass and then had some beer.

Daddy is having another beer while he pretends to think about doing some strimming.  Daddy is not really thinking about strimming though, he is thinking about his Dream Shed and all the Man Stuff he could keep in it.  Daddy has gone off his current shed, ever since Mummy painted it a most fetching shade of duck egg blue and put bunting on it.  

Peter and Jane are playing in the paddling pool.

Jane is screaming something about Peter pissing in the pool, and Peter is waving his willy and laughing maniacally.

Lost in his Shed Dreams, Daddy hears nothing.

Mummy is not outside in the sunshine.

Mummy is in the kitchen, making lots and lots of delicious salads and marinading every kind of dead animal she could find in Waitrose, ready for the barbecue.

Mummy is dimly aware of the screaming, but it is not 'There Is Blood' screaming, so she ignores it, and pours a tiny glass of the nice pink wine that was on special in Waitrose.

Daddy lights the barbecue and has another beer until the barbecue is ready to cook on, because he does not feel gas barbecues are Manly.

Peter and Jane have got out of the paddling pool, come in, trailed mud and water through the house, got dried on a clean towel and dressed in a new set of clothes, then decided to put on a different swimsuit and get back in the pool a total of seventeen times now, and Mummy has put several slugs of gin into her pink wine and is convincing herself it is a summer cocktail.

Now the barbecue is lit though, Peter and Jane have abandoned all interest in the pissy paddling pool, and instead decide to ride their scooters as close to the fire as they can.

Mummy sticks a straw in the gin bottle.

Daddy is cooking on the barbecue now.

Cooking on the barbecue is a very complex and difficult task, therefore it is imperative that Daddy does not take his eyes off the barbecue for one single second, lest a woolly mammoth come and trample the fire that he, the mighty Man, has made.

While Daddy guards his magic fire, he shouts to Mummy to forage him beer from the cave.

He also demands Mummy run back and forth between the barbecue and the kitchen, delivering dead animal for cooking, and retrieving cooked animal before it burns, for Daddy Is Barbecuing.

Mummy thinks it's pretty fucking amazing that when she barbecues, when Daddy is being busy and important at work, she manages to do it without the threat of a single mammoth, and also without being such a colossal prick,

Daddy shouts for another beer, and Mummy shouts back "Go fuck yourself."

The food is cooked.

Peter and Jane do not like the food.

Peter says "There is stuff on my chicken.  I do not like stuff on my chicken." 

Jane says "This looks burnt.  I cannot eat the burnt bits.  Why is this burnt?"

Mummy says "It's not stuff, Peter, it's a lovely herb marinade.  And it's not burnt, Jane, it's char-fucking-grilled."

Peter and Jane say "Why can't we have sausages and burgers like normal people?"

Mummy says "We are fucking middle class and aspirational.  We have been to fucking Tuscany.  Eat the fucking chicken."

Peter and Jane have gone to bed.

The Dog ate the chicken.

Daddy says "Did you enjoy having a night off cooking, darling?  I'm quite tired now, after all that."

Mummy stabs Daddy in the eye with an artisanal skewer.