need sensual overtones, you need sensual undertones.”
She didn’t get it, though, she just went rambling on.
“This is ‘me’ time.”
And she went off into the bathroom.
ten minutes later
I made Bibbs and me cheese on toast, but remembered that we must eat a balanced diet, so put some tomato sauce on for the vit. C content. If my legs start getting all bendy like Grandvati’s because of rickets, I hope Mum will find her ylang-ylang-smelling skin a comfort.
Libby is sharing her sandwich with tartan mousy. They are watching Pudsey and Sudsey Go on Holiday or something. Anyway, weird creatures with no necks in bathing suits.
As I left, she went to get her swimming costume and rubber ring. She lobes Pudsey and Sudsey’s holiday.
in my bedroom
ten minutes later
Mum’s not the only one who can have “me” time. I can have “me” time for me to have some “me” time.
Aaaah…sooo, the Luuurve God.
I’ll start with the tongue-kissing episode and—
“GET OUT! Oooh, how disgusting. Don’t stand on there, you’ll…” SPLASH !!!!!
Then more yelling and splashing and Mum saying, “Don’t let it touch my…Ohmygod, it’s touched me…. Put that snorkel, owwww…”
MIAOOOOWWWWWW…
“Lalalalalala…heggyheggyho…”
What the hell was going on?
four minutes later
Mum’s “me” time turned into “us” time.
I went down to see what had happened and there was water everywhere in the bathroom. Mum was standing in a bath towel, shouting. Libby was in her bathing costume with a snorkel, sitting in the bath singing, “Bum bum pooey pooey bum bum” in two centimeters of water. And Angus and Gordy were sneezing and soaking and trying to scrabble up the sides of the bath.
Mum stormed off into her bedroom and I said to Libby, who was now putting her rubber ring on, “What happened, Bibbsy?”
She looked at me cross-eyed, like I was a fool, and said very deliberately, “Me came on my HOLIDAYS wif my fwends. Get in, Gingie.”
back in my bedroom
All is calm again.
I will get into my bed to look at my part (oo-er) in Rom and Jul .
Lovely and snugly, I may just have a little zizz before I settle down to…
Not.
Have you any idea what it is like to have two wet cats, a soaking tartan mouse and a toddler covered in soap in your bed?
fifteen minutes later
Libby has dried off a bit now and the cats have bogged off to murder stuff. They only stayed in my bed long enough to get warm and dampen the sheets.
Libby still has her rubber ring on, but it could be worse, she could have Mr. Fish in here with us.
three minutes later
It IS worse.
She has got Mr. Fish in here with us.
five minutes later
If I hear “Maybe it’s beCOD I’m a Londoner” one more time, I may have a nervy spaz.
three minutes later
Mr. Fish’s batteries went. I will never be mean about Baby Jesus again.
Also I was just saying to Libby that she should lie down and have a little snooze when she dropped off to sleep, sitting up.
Amazing.
I carried her to her own room, which wasn’t very easy actually with the rubber ring, but it does mean I have the whole of my bed to myself!!!!
ten minutes later
Now then, back to Billy Shakespeare land. Otherwise known as “Twits in Tights.”
ten minutes later
Mercutio just lurks around Rom, more or less telling him off, and then dies. I am going to call him Merc-lurk-io.
twelve minutes later
I wish I could be bothered to get up and phone Jas. In Act II she has a whole night of snogging with her boyfriend, Wet Lindsay. She will have got further on the Snogging Scale than she has with Hunky. I bet she wishes she hadn’t been so meanabout my brilliant papier-mâché head idea now.
She is vair stubborn.
Right, I am going to get some shut-eye.
10:32 p.m.
Oh, how vair vair inconsiderate some people are. I can hear Mum’s voice booming all over the house. She is on the blower to one of her mad aquarobic mates.
Mum said, “Well, I’m deffo going to do it. At the very least
She didn’t get it, though, she just went rambling on.
“This is ‘me’ time.”
And she went off into the bathroom.
ten minutes later
I made Bibbs and me cheese on toast, but remembered that we must eat a balanced diet, so put some tomato sauce on for the vit. C content. If my legs start getting all bendy like Grandvati’s because of rickets, I hope Mum will find her ylang-ylang-smelling skin a comfort.
Libby is sharing her sandwich with tartan mousy. They are watching Pudsey and Sudsey Go on Holiday or something. Anyway, weird creatures with no necks in bathing suits.
As I left, she went to get her swimming costume and rubber ring. She lobes Pudsey and Sudsey’s holiday.
in my bedroom
ten minutes later
Mum’s not the only one who can have “me” time. I can have “me” time for me to have some “me” time.
Aaaah…sooo, the Luuurve God.
I’ll start with the tongue-kissing episode and—
“GET OUT! Oooh, how disgusting. Don’t stand on there, you’ll…” SPLASH !!!!!
Then more yelling and splashing and Mum saying, “Don’t let it touch my…Ohmygod, it’s touched me…. Put that snorkel, owwww…”
MIAOOOOWWWWWW…
“Lalalalalala…heggyheggyho…”
What the hell was going on?
four minutes later
Mum’s “me” time turned into “us” time.
I went down to see what had happened and there was water everywhere in the bathroom. Mum was standing in a bath towel, shouting. Libby was in her bathing costume with a snorkel, sitting in the bath singing, “Bum bum pooey pooey bum bum” in two centimeters of water. And Angus and Gordy were sneezing and soaking and trying to scrabble up the sides of the bath.
Mum stormed off into her bedroom and I said to Libby, who was now putting her rubber ring on, “What happened, Bibbsy?”
She looked at me cross-eyed, like I was a fool, and said very deliberately, “Me came on my HOLIDAYS wif my fwends. Get in, Gingie.”
back in my bedroom
All is calm again.
I will get into my bed to look at my part (oo-er) in Rom and Jul .
Lovely and snugly, I may just have a little zizz before I settle down to…
Not.
Have you any idea what it is like to have two wet cats, a soaking tartan mouse and a toddler covered in soap in your bed?
fifteen minutes later
Libby has dried off a bit now and the cats have bogged off to murder stuff. They only stayed in my bed long enough to get warm and dampen the sheets.
Libby still has her rubber ring on, but it could be worse, she could have Mr. Fish in here with us.
three minutes later
It IS worse.
She has got Mr. Fish in here with us.
five minutes later
If I hear “Maybe it’s beCOD I’m a Londoner” one more time, I may have a nervy spaz.
three minutes later
Mr. Fish’s batteries went. I will never be mean about Baby Jesus again.
Also I was just saying to Libby that she should lie down and have a little snooze when she dropped off to sleep, sitting up.
Amazing.
I carried her to her own room, which wasn’t very easy actually with the rubber ring, but it does mean I have the whole of my bed to myself!!!!
ten minutes later
Now then, back to Billy Shakespeare land. Otherwise known as “Twits in Tights.”
ten minutes later
Mercutio just lurks around Rom, more or less telling him off, and then dies. I am going to call him Merc-lurk-io.
twelve minutes later
I wish I could be bothered to get up and phone Jas. In Act II she has a whole night of snogging with her boyfriend, Wet Lindsay. She will have got further on the Snogging Scale than she has with Hunky. I bet she wishes she hadn’t been so meanabout my brilliant papier-mâché head idea now.
She is vair stubborn.
Right, I am going to get some shut-eye.
10:32 p.m.
Oh, how vair vair inconsiderate some people are. I can hear Mum’s voice booming all over the house. She is on the blower to one of her mad aquarobic mates.
Mum said, “Well, I’m deffo going to do it. At the very least
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