Monday, 11 July 2011

All nice things...

I had a bit of a strop on Saturday. It concerned the fact that I was trying to watch the interviews on the BBC's coverage of the qualifying for the British Grand Prix. My children were, to put it mildly, MAKING A RACKET.

I remonstrated, I pleaded, I quoted Pink Floyd (the "lips move, but I can't hear what they're saying...") But to no avail. So I switched off of the TV and went to have a shower (I'd been for a run and was lunching and watching the top ten shoot-out for pole position first).

When I came out of the shower there was a folded bit of paper from R7 on the bed with a heart and the words "sorry Mum". Aw, sweet. All forgiven, of course. What I didn't know was that while I had been showering Brian had been fetched by the aforementioned offspring who had then confessed to extreme noisiness and Daddy had laid down the law a little (something about how I do a lot for them and the least they could do was not spoil my enjoyment of F1 which was my little treat, a reward for a week's hard work of mothering.)

I had a contrite verbal apology from H9 (really, I wasn't that cross, it wasn't like it was the actual race or anything) then in the kitchen I found this note from R7 (who is a sensitive soul):

I Miss you Mum

all nice things mummy has Done for me in my Life

She cooks the best food in the world for me
She helps me when i am in trouble
She Looks after me when daddy is working
She buy's amazing stuff for me
She play's with me.
She waches Harry potter with me.
Please Don't Leve me Mum
from Rosie

Gulp. Swallow. "Leve"? I was only in the shower! Slightly miffed perhaps, but the interviews were almost over and really were only a bunch of men droning on about downforce, off-throttle blowing of the diffuser and other stuff about exhaust gases in F1 which, really, they bored on about for most of Saturday and then agreed to do nothing much about.

Children are funny. Still, at least it shows what use I am to this family even if they can be a bit noisy (but perhaps I'll go and sing over Blue Peter or Shaun the Sheep as revenge...) You'll note the rather Welsh use of the apostrophe in R7's note - she hasn't started to learn English at school yet.

I won't, of course, ever leave (that's for them to do to me). Where would I go? Why would I want to? How would I afford the petrol?


  1. Exactly how would one afford the petrol! Could never leave mine either even if htey do wake me at 3am in the morning wanting to ask me to go to the loo with them....

  2. Bet you were choked after that . . . I once got so sick of everyone I went for a drive and ended up at my best friend's in Hampshire . . . but I did come back and they were teenagers then . . .

  3. All nice things . . . come to you in your home in the Preseli Hills. Because they should!
    Those girls are real sweeties! (And they know how to get their mom, in different ways.)
    As for having enough money to leave home, petrol here is worth a King's ransom (or at least a Duke's — but we're letting Will and Kate come back home anyhow). Petrol costs about C$1.22/litre, or for a gallon, about C$5.55 or €4.10. Yup, not great here, either. And we have the stuff in our ground!

  4. How beautiful.
    I found a little note like that from one of my sons earlier this year. All the things he loved about me.
    He liked the way I could type also!!
    The wheel has turned full circle and he is a Dad now.
    I found myself reminding him to be extra patient with his little girl , who was having a melt down due to a temperature last week.
    Tuck that note away.

  5. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry over that note - so I did a bit of both. Oh, the joys of parenthood! Wouldn't swap it for anything else....

  6. What a fabulous note! And I love the fact that you already know that your job is to let them leave you, eventually. That's the hard part.x


I am sorry to have to add word verification thing again but I keep getting spammed.