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  • Helen McNutt

Happy Holidays!

Updated: Sep 27, 2019

Our school broke up on Friday, so yesterday was the start of a relaxing, seven week stretch of bliss and sunshine. Keen to start the bliss and relaxation as soon as possible, Edie woke up at 2am. Puking. The boys had decided to sleep in her room, possibly because there was just too much space and fresh air in theirs, so I had to tiptoe through, carefully holding her sheets so as not to dump a load of sick on their sweaty, sleeping heads. I went back to bed and lay there, hot and sticky, and had a lovely long worry about whether or not she might be sick again and whether the boys would catch it.

As soon as I got to sleep the children woke up. Although at least no one was puking. In fact my morning improved to the point of me sitting outside in the sun, with a coffee and Porter magazine, as Andrew went off to feed the animals. Then Bear came out for a chat, and started weeing into a plastic bottle, “to see if he could”.

He could.

He then wanted me to put the bottle somewhere safe to show dad, once he was back from the animals. It’s so fresh mum! So warm! I buried my head in an article on Pamela Anderson and told him to take the bottle far away from the elderflower gin I recently made, they could too easily be mistaken for each other.

Next Raffy came out to dump his used night-time nappy on my lap, for no other reason than to prove that actually yes, there is something worse than warm wee in a bottle.

I gave up on reading and began making brunch. This went well, mostly because the kids heard Andrew try to sneak past to do the rest of the animals and ran screeching outside, demanding to go with him. I spent the time alone wafting about in a kaftan, listening to Pulp and Simon and Garfunkel, making a raspberry/egg soufflé like someone who was really quite pleased with herself.

This lasted up until we all sat down to eat in the garden and Edie said, quite conversationally ‘Oh my fuck.’ As Andrew whisper-spluttered ‘where did she learn that?’, Bear hopped up from the table to go and get the sun warmed bottle of wee that I now saw he’d balanced precariously on the gate post, and brought it over to proudly show his dad. Hooray for summer holidays 😬

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