Last Friday night Mr Firstooth worked. It was horrid. Not for him, he was listening to the radio, probably googling stuff and having a ton of fun at work. Night-work is a doddle. While he was working away, I sat bolt upright, realising the responsibility of taking care of our kingdom alone. Protecting our children, if needs be, by myself. It’s scary isn’t it? I’m a bit wussy, but, whatever.
So the agreement for Saturday was for me to take the kids out while he rested in peace. Having toddlers jump on your ribs yelling ”g’up daddy” when you’ve not slept, would’ve been funny, but not ideal. I’d arranged to meet my parents at one of our nearby castles for the day.
Come the morning when we were ready to leave, Mr F appeared downstairs, dressed and ready to go.
”You were going without me?”
He’s crazy and clearly hates to miss any chaos.
My parents were just as shocked to see Mr F appear. At first they were shocked because I met them with only Miss M and then did the whole ”OMG I’ve left her brother in the car”. It fools no-one, every time.
We headed to the restaurant first to feed ourselves and the baby beasts. We had to queue up to order and at first, I was a little behind joining my parents in the queue because our son didn’t know what he wanted to do. He didn’t know where he wanted to go and wasn’t sure if he liked anyone. No, he definitely didnt like anyone. Ditched with his dad, I was back in the queue. A lady had snuck in front of me. It was awkward. My parents were paying but she was determined I wouldn’t join them in front. Whatever, I had some serious decisions to make.
I had just started a vegetarian diet so the vegetarian option would have been soup. But they were serving jacket potato and chilli. That just shows how my willpower will crumble, the first sign of chilli and I’m thinking ‘oh one won’t hurt’. That saucy chilli smothering a jacket potato, how vegetarian do I need to be? I mean soup is good, healthy, blah.
Luckily the queue was taking a while so I had dozens of minutes to procrastinate over my decision. Then the woman in front was being served. So decisions had to be made snappy, I was getting a little sweaty because I’d be asked really soon what my order was. Only I needn’t have worried, because eventhough we had been kicking our heels in the queue forever, the woman in front with her two children didn’t have any idea what they fancied.
What the hell have they been thinking about the entire time they’ve been waiting to order food? The lovely detailing on the ceiling? The blue sky outside the window? My only thoughts in the queue were food. My only thoughts ever is food. I love food. All I thought about was how conflicted I felt about wanting chilli. Meat on a meat-free diet.
”What would you like James?”
”How about you Emily?”
”What is there?”
What does she mean ‘what is there’, the menu was right in front of her. It wasn’t even a small menu, it was a large chalkboard.
”Oh, sorry, I don’t even know what I want”
The decision wasn’t whether she wanted to purchase a house, c’mon. Soup, jacket potato or ploughmans. My nostrils started to flare at the extremely unprepared woman. Because I’m prepared, I know what I’m having, chilli or soup. Chilli or soup. Chilli or soup? The ploughmans looked tasty. No, chilli or soup. Soup, I settled on soup. Delicious!
After lunch we were going to walk around the grounds of the castle, but since our small little babe wanted to walk. Well, she always wants to walk, we just threw caution to the wind this time and let her. We took them into the castle, stroller free, and their reaction was like they’d eaten a tube of blue smarties. The only noises they were making were squeals, giggles and ”eeeeeeeee…”. We were like a scene from a comendy film, chasing two toddlers around a castle filled with antiques and breakables. You’d know the rooms we’d just stampeded through because all the delicate vases would be rattling.
There were certain areas of the castle which had been roped off. That’s no issue to our little babe Miss M, these ropes fell just above her head, she saw parts of the castle we never will. She sat on furniture we wouldn’t dare to. They both hid behind curtains we prayed wouldn’t fall down. Then there were the closed doors, an insult to Mr M, who hates closed doors. ”No Entry” means nothing to a toddler who thinks there may be ‘crispies’ or ‘chocrate’ behind the door.
They were absolutely hilarious. Their happiness melted everyone nearby. Their craziness had us in stitches, you know how crazy children can be, imagine that in a castle!