Thursday, 29 April 2010

Where's the bloody toilet?

It's always an adventure when my husband and I stay out at a hotel for a mini-break. Last time we got upgraded (because the toilet didn't work) to a huge suite with jacuzzi bath, kitchen, 4 rooms, lake view, etc. On Friday the toilet theme continued at our hotel in Montreal.  Lovely evening.....went to a restaurant with the best service I've encountered. Shame the food tasted cack. I suppose if you have the nerve to order piglet then you deserve, through the laws of Karma, to have it taste like greasy grease grease. Poor piglet.

We had drinks in the hotel bar then went to our room. Flash forward to 3am (not least because you don't need the details before then) and I'm up and going to the toilet. I know where it is, I got dressed there earlier. First door on the left. So how then do I find myself out in the hotel corridor and only realise it a millisecond after the door closes behind me? Did I mention I was naked? Or that my husband was fast asleep? Or that I could hear someone in the corridor around the corner?

I knocked almost silently - the last thing I wanted was for some bleary eyed neighbour thinking I was knocking on their door. Needless to say my husband slept on....I think I could even hear him snoring. Oh God! The person around the corner was coming closer, or so it seemed to my increasingly panicked mind. I knocked again a little louder. Nothing. Louder. Get up. Get up. Get up! I began to curse him for sleeping through my trauma. I was also getting cold and of course I was dying for a wee. Eventually I heard him walking around the room. How long could it take him to get there....five seconds perhaps? Hurry up. Hurry up. Hurry up! What was he doing? I knocked again and pressed my eye up to the peep hole to see if I could see him. Then the door opened.

Apparently it had taken him so long to open the door because he was looking for me! He found it all hugely amusing.

THEN I went to the real bathroom and the toilet broke! An hour waiting for a repair so we raided the mini bar and got it all free for our trouble. All's well that end's well.

Friday, 16 April 2010

Mam I can see your party knickers

Youngest has always been a funny little thing. I blogged about her for ages then she started to grow out of that cute age and grew a foot, learned how to roll her eyes (usually at me) and says 'whatever' indiscriminately. But every now and then she says whatever enters her head, hence the 'I can see your party knickers' which were showing a little above my jeans when I bent over to pick something up. I'm not sure what her idea of party knickers is but they are now my favourite pair. I just need to find a party.


A couple of other habits which she hasn't grown out of are:

a) stealth. As a toddler she could creep into my bedroom, stand right in front of me and stare until I woke up. She was usually just wearing wellies - she outgrew that bit, thank God. Her version now is to get into a room silently so she's standing right behind you, or on all fours, and wait to be discovered. It drives me mad and it's creepy but I just can't get her out of the habit. Might help her one day.....say if she decides to be a Ninja.


b) weirdness. We quite like this one and have let her be as weird as she likes. Point in hand, she told people at her school she had an imaginary friend called Jeff, just to creep them out. She's 12, OK, and she spent an hour playing with 2 oingy things you use to fasten stuff on your car AND another hour zapping mosquitoes with electric killer thing (which admittedly I bought for her). Her younger version of this was talking to chopsticks. Right now she's talking to my newly ironed top.


Eldest is going to break the Have An Argument Every Day With Your Mother Award. This was previously held by her Auntie Catherine but she's showing no signs of weakening so I think it's in the bag.  Latest one was my arguments not being strong enough - apparently 'inappropriate behaviour' is meaningless.  It's not a PROPER reason. I resorted to 'just do as your told' then 'end of conversation' which is a parent cheat but I could feel her coming in for the kill.


So if you worry about your kids, just think of me.