Saturday, 25 June 2016

Peter and Jane and the Open Afternoon.

Today, Peter and Jane are having an Open Afternoon at school.

Open Afternoons are a fun opportunity for all the mummies and some of the daddies to come to school and compete to show how much they love their children by making enthusiastic noises about random crap.

The mummy that manages to make the best happy noises wins a Boden catalogue.

Mummies that don't come to Open Afternoons are judged, and pelted with organic quinoa by the Boden Mummies.

Mummy goes to Peter's classroom first.

Every time Mummy leaves the school, she forgets the stench created by twenty small children farting determinedly in a classroom.

 Teachers should really be issued with gas masks.

"Look at this, Mummy" shouts Peter.

Mummy has no idea what this piece of shit is, that Peter is waving in her face.

"Wonderful, darling." says Mummy "You are very clever."

Peter drags Mummy round the classroom, pointing out many indiscriminate objects made of papier mache.

Then Mummy has to look through Peter's drawer.  There are sticky things in there.  Mummy tries not to think what they might be.

Mummy just keeps smiling and chanting "Wonderful darling, very good."

Mummy will not be judged today.

Peter's class do a play next.

Mummy is not entirely sure what the play is about.

Peter plays a dog.

Peter dies in the first scene and spends the rest of the play rolling around on the floor, while Sally Jenkins kicks him and tells him to keep still.

It is a very long play.  Mummy is surprised when she looks at her watch to see that only three minutes have passed.

A Boden Mummy spots Mummy looking at her watch and rolling her eyes.  It seems Mummy will be judged today after all.

Next, Mummy goes to Jane's classroom.

Jane is sulking because Mummy went to Peter's classroom first.

"I cannot be in two places at once." says Mummy.

"Why not?" says Jane "Perfect Mrs Atkinson can."

Mummy would like to shout that Perfect Mrs Atkinson and her Perfect bending of the laws of fucking physics can fuck right off, but she cannot, because it is Open Afternoon and the Boden Mummies are watching, with their mental clipboards poised to tick off any Imperfect Moments by Bad Mummies, so instead Mummy smiles through gritted teeth and says "How nice for Perfect Mrs Atkinson.  I will endeavour to work harder on building a time machine."

"Good." says Jane.

Jane's class has been learning about the Vikings.  As part of this topic, Mummy had build to a Viking longship out of tooth picks and tears, and pretend that Jane made it.  

Mummy is still unsure what exactly this taught Jane about the Vikings, but Mummy was quite proud of her longship.

Mummy's longship is the worst one in the class.

Perfect Mrs Atkinson has built a full size longship, and staffed it with the extras from the Viking programme with all the shagging.

Mrs Jenkins not only built a longship, she also built scale models of Saxon castles for her mini Viking figures to rape and pillage in, and has come dressed as a berserker, to encourage Johnny.

"Yours is a bit shit really, Mummy" says Jane.

In a final act of revenge for the farting children, the teacher makes all the mummies sit on the floor like five year olds and take part in a 'Mental Maths Challenge'.

Perfect Mrs Atkinson pushes to the front so she can display her superior knowledge and enthusiasm and win the Best Mummy Prize.

"What is 11 x 12?" asks the teacher.

"120!!!!!" shouts out Mrs Atkinson.

"Ah ha ha ha fucking ha, you stupid twat." thinks Mummy.

The Boden Mummies shake their heads sorrowfully as they hurl the organic quinoa at Mrs Atkinson and log her out of her Boden account forever.

Saturday, 18 June 2016

Peter and Jane and Fathers' Day.

Today, it is Fathers' Day.

On Fathers' Day, you are supposed to give presents and cards to your fathers and do nice things for them.

Originally, you were just supposed to give them a card.

Now, according to the adverts on Facebook, on Fathers' Day, you are meant to give your father iPads and expensive secret cameras to spy on Mummy.

Facebook doesn't seem to understand about pocket money.  Or having a soul.

On Fathers' Day, Mummy is woken up by ominous noises.

"What are you doing?" says Mummy.

"We are making breakfast for Daddy." says Peter.

"And we have made him beautiful cards." says Jane.

"Oh." says Mummy, as she surveys the egg and glitter smeared wasteland that was once her kitchen "That is nice."

Daddy is woken up to eat his breakfast.

"It is delicious, isn't it." says Jane.

Daddy smiles bravely as he chokes down the scrambled egg that is more shell than egg.

"Mmmmm, yummy." says Daddy.

"Mummy, do you want some scrambled egg?  There is lots." says Peter.

Mummy knows there is lots of scrambled egg, because she has seen the kitchen.  Unfortunately most of the scrambled egg is splattered over the floor and ceiling, rather than in the pan.

"No thank you." says Mummy.  Today is Fathers' Day, and Mummy is going to make Daddy make the most of it "I think Daddy would like seconds."

Daddy glares at Mummy.

Peter and Jane have made Fathers' Day presents for Daddy.

"Here you are, Daddy." says Peter.

"Oh" says Daddy, as he surveys the brown poo shaped object Peter is proffering.  "Thank you.  What it is?"

"It is a poo, that I made out of clay." says Peter.

"Are you sure it is made out of clay?" says Daddy nervously.

"Do you like my present?" says Jane.

"Oh yes!" says Daddy "It is lovely.  It is the loveliest thing covered in glitter I have ever seen.  What is it meant to be?"

"It is meant to be A Thing Covered In Glitter" says Jane indignantly "Will you keep it and treasure it forever?"

"Oh yes" says Daddy, as he thrusts the dried poo that may or may not be made of clay and the Thing Covered In Glitter in a drawer until enough time has passed that they can be binned without guilt.

Peter and Jane and Mummy and Daddy have gone out for a special Fathers' Day lunch.

Everyone else in the restaurant has also gone out for a special Fathers' Day lunch.

There are 26,000 children running amok around the restaurant.

"Can we run amok?" ask Peter and Jane.

"No!" hisses Mummy "We are middle fucking class, you will give the impression that you are used to eating in restaurants and have been snacking on foie gras and raspberry jus since the first day I lovingly introduced the baby led weaning.  We will never mention the Heinz jars.  SIT."

Ten minutes later Mummy says "Oh fuck it, run amok, just stop talking at me."

Lunch has arrived.

As the waitress brings the food to the table, Peter and Jane play a fun game called 'Trip up the poor girl carrying the hot food for the minumum wage.'

"Oh, I am sorry, they are very high spirited." says Mummy.

"It is fine." says the waitress.  She has learnt to hide the murder in her eyes. 

Peter and Jane said they did not like anything on the children's menu, and insisted on ordering from the proper menu.

"This has bits in." says Peter.

"I think I just want chicken nuggets." says Jane.

Daddy has paid the enormous bill for lunch and feels another part of his soul die inside.

"Can I go home and watch TV now?" says Daddy.

"No." say Peter and Jane. "Now you must bond with us, and create happy memories for us all to treasure."

"FML." says Daddy.

"Ha ha ha ha!" says Mummy "I am going to watch Game of Thrones.  Have fun, Daddy!"

Friday, 17 June 2016

Peter and Jane Are Living And Growing...

Today, Peter and Jane learned about 'Living And Growing' at school.

'Living And Growing' might sound like a nice day learning about plants, but actually it is what used to be called sex education.

Lots of mummies have repeatedly asked the school to tell them when the children will be learning about 'Living And Growing', so they can brace themselves and avoid doing things like asking Granny for tea that night, but the school think it is much funnier to not give any warning until the children run into the playground shouting "PEEEEEENIIIIIIIIS!!!!!!"

Peter runs up to Mummy shouting "PENIS PENIS PENIS!!!!  VAGINA VAGINA VAGINA!"

Jane looks pale and shell shocked.

 "Let us never speak of this again" says Jane.


"Er, yes, thank you, I did." says Mummy, who is British and thus has never had cause to say the word 'vagina' in her life, relying instead on the suitably vague and euphemistic 'down there' if she had to make any mention of unmentionable things.

Granny, of course, is coming to tea tonight.

"Granny, did you know that you make a baby by a man putting his penis in your vagina?" says Peter.

Granny begins to choke.

"Would you like a gin and tonic, Granny?" says Mummy.

"YES!" says Granny "Yes, I bloody would!"

"You have three children, Granny" Peter says "That means Grandpa must have put his penis in your vagina three times, doesn't it?  And Daddy must have put his penis in Mummy's vagina two times.  Did you know Daddy had put his penis in Mummy's vagina, Granny?"

"Make it a large gin, Mummy" says Granny.

"Already done." says Mummy, as she tips half a bottle of Tanqueray Export into a glass with a mere hint of tonic and wonders what on earth was wrong with the old way, where Mummy found out about sex from a book about breeding rabbits and eventually an embarrassed teacher stood at the front of the class and mumbled something about periods before hurling a box of sanitary towels on the desk and fleeing.

Yes, Mummy was a bit confused about the whole sex thing for many years until she discovered 'More' magazine, and the Reverse Cowgirl, 'Just 17' having been no help whatsoever with its prim counsel to never, ever have sex ever, or even do kissing if you could avoid it, because boys were filthy, depraved beasts who were only interested in One Thing, but she survived and is no more repressed than is perfectly normal, and at least Mummy never felt the need to discuss such things with her grandmother over the tea table.

"Granny," says Peter "How did Uncle James and Uncle Simon have a baby?"

"MORE GIN, MUMMY!" says Granny.

"Mummy, do you enjoy having a sexual relationship with Daddy?" asks Peter.

Mummy's first inclination is to simply say "No" to this question, but she is afraid that Peter will tell all the teachers she said this and they will judge her.

Instead, despite the diktats in the leaflet they got home many weeks ago threatening them with 'Living and Growing', that insisted they were to be 'open and honest' with the children when they asked impertinent things, Mummy mumbles "Go and tidy your room."

"But I still have lots of questions!" says Peter

By the time Daddy comes home from work, Granny is shitfaced, which means she is making sweeping and mildly racist statements, and reminding Mummy why Granny isn't usually allowed strong drink.

Mummy is rocking in a corner with the dregs of the gin bottle, hoping everyone will just fuck off and leave her in her happy place.

Peter is singing a jolly song about genitals to the tune of 'Twinkle Twinkle'.

"Look Peter," says Mummy evilly, "Daddy's home, why don't you ask him the rest of your questions, Daddy would be happy to answer them." 

 Mummy tips the rest of the gin down her throat and cackles maniacally, while Daddy stands like a bunny in the headlights, trying to work out what the fuck he is supposed to say when his son asks him his opinion on wanking.

Friday, 10 June 2016

Peter and Jane and the Summer Fete.

Today, Mummy is taking Peter and Jane to the Summer Fete at school.

Mummy would rather be putting pins in her eyes.

Summer Fetes, Mummy feels, should be held in the grassy grounds of the Vicarage, with Miss Marple skipping about to the jolly tones of the local brass band, twirling her pearls as she solves the pleasantly bloodless murder of the nice, young Vicar, who has been offed for discovering a Dark Secret about one of his parishioners.

The Dark Secret would hopefully be that Perfect Lucy Atkinson's Perfect Mummy has a raging cocaine habit that she supports by working as a high class call girl.

Instead the Summer Fete is held in the barren, concrete waste ground of the school playground.

Mummy still has her suspicions about Perfect Mrs Atkinson though.

Peter and Jane arrive at the Summer Fete with Mummy.

A black cloud reeking of charred animal fat and burning sugar drifts across the playground.

Peter and Jane are very excited. 

"MONEY MONEY MONEY!!!!" Peter and Jane chant at Mummy.


"BURGER BURGER BURGER!" they scream.

In a futile attempt at parenting, Mummy decrees that the candyfloss must come after the burger.

Perfect Mr Atkinson is manning the barbecue.

He does not look quite so perfect today, he looks quite hot and sweaty.

"That will be £15!" says Mr Atkinson brightly.

"What the actual fuck?" says Mummy.

Mr Atkinson looks wounded.  "It is for the school!" he tells Mummy "The Fete is to raise money for the children.  Won't you think of the children?"

Mummy prefers not to think of the children if she possibly can.

Since Mummy had to pay £15 for three Burgers of Death, she nibbles at hers tentatively, but she cannot shake the thought that Mr Atkinson has possibly sweated onto it. 

Mummy has paid £15 to eat Mr Atkinson's sweat. 

Mummy puts her burger in the bin.

"CANDYFLOSS!!!!" snarl Peter and Jane.

"Oh, fuck it." thinks Mummy "It is not like they can get any more hyper, can they?"

On the way to the candyfloss stall, they pass the Home Baking Stand, where Perfect Mrs Atkinson is standing, steely eyed and ruthless.

"Buy cake!" Mrs Atkinson orders Mummy.

"Errrr." says Mummy, eyeing the dispirited selection of lop sided Victoria sponges, brick-like banana loaves and strange lumpen things that may or may not be scones.

"Of course, you're too late for my cupcakes." says Mrs Atkinson smugly.  "You have to be quick for them, they sold out immediately."

"Oh, do shove your perfect fucking cupcakes up your perfect fucking arsehole." thinks Mummy, as she finally decides one of the pissed sponge cakes is the safest bet.  

"£7.50" says Mrs Atkinson "FOR THE CHILDREN." she adds menacingly, as Mummy hands over a tenner with a whimper.

"Oh dear" says Mrs Atkinson "I don't seem to have any change left.  I tell you what, I'll pop in a couple of these lovely scones and we'll call it £10."

Jane has spotted pony rides.  

"POOOOOOONNNNNNNYYYYYYY" screeches Jane as she dashes towards the dejected pony trudging in circles.

Meanwhile, Peter has spotted the tombola, and is racing towards that.

Mummy gives up trying to keep Peter and Jane together and hurls money at Peter while she runs after Jane, ponies seeming more dangerous to Mummy than the innocent fun of a tombola.

Mummy and Jane wait in the queue for the pony rides.

Perfect Lucy Atkinson is ahead of them in the queue.

"Can I have a pony, Daddy?" says Lucy.

"Maybe, Poppet, I will have a chat to Mummy about it." says Mr Atkinson.

"Thank you, Daddy, that sounds a most reasonable answer, and I'm sure what ever you and Mummy decide will be the right thing to do." says Lucy.

"Can I have a pony, Mummy?" says Jane.

"No." says Mummy.

"Why not?" says Jane.

"Because I say so." says Mummy.


"Oh God, if I say I will think about it, will you stop screaming?" says Mummy.

Jane has had five three minute pony rides at five pounds each, when Mummy remembers Peter and the tombola.

Peter is glassy eyed in front of the tombola, surrounded by discarded tickets.  It seems in her haste Mummy gave Peter a twenty pound note, not a fiver, and Peter appears to be showing all the early signs of a gambling addiction.

Peter has won a cracked vase; a box of soap that expired in 1998; a set of drawer liners to match the soap; a bottle of 'Bulgarian Country Wine' and a terrifying plaster model of a clown.

However, these prizes are as nothing to Peter: he is playing to win the battered box of Lego that is still up for grabs.

"More money!" he grunts at Mummy.

Mummy has finally managed to drag Peter and Jane out of the Summer Fete.

Mummy has spent £75, and has nothing to show for it except Peter's tombola prizes; inedible cakes; a possible case of salmonella and a headache.

Mummy is going home to drink the Bulgarian Country Wine and anything else alcoholic she can get her hands on.

"Don't forget about my pony!" says Jane for the twenty ninth time in five minutes.