Decided to take the kids to do something fun today.
No mean feat when you take into account, factoring into the planning stage, the differing meanings the word ‘fun’ represents to a nine year old karaoke machine, and a habitually ‘bored-with-life-and-that,’ sixteen year old, eating machine.
The dog looked hopeful for a bit but I told him that sadly, his delinquent behaviour meant that he wouldn’t, on this or any other ‘getting there in the car’ occasion, be included in the fun.
The Teenager vetoed the play-park. Annabelle (in a vengeful side-swipe) vetoed bowling.
The Teenager rebutted by going ahead and vetoing the cinema because animation sucks and penguins are ‘gay.’ Annabelle vetoed his suggestion to go swimming because swimming gives her headaches.
The Teenager accused her of ruining everything and she replied that he ruined it first.
Shout, shout. Slam, slam.
Both disappeared into their bedrooms.
Meanwhile I’m sitting at the bottom of the stairs with my head propped on my chin, wondering whether the dog’s initial interest in my offer of a day out was still on the table or whether he had, by now, made other plans (I was also wondering whether Max and Tanya will still get it together in Eastenders tonight, but I guess only time will tell on that one. Hope they do though, Vanessa’s head’s too big. Fingers crossed).
As we got into the car the Teenager pointed out, quite rightly, that since we haven’t got any money, we wouldn’t be able to afford anything anyway.
Annabelle replied that if we only ever looked at stuff we could afford; all we’d ever see is crap.
Three weeks of summer fun down. Three to go.