The Mouse Box

In anticipation of World Book day this Thursday, I read a book last night.

It wasn't what I was expecting.

At all.

All kudos to the writer, as I really had NO idea where it was going.

Little G had brought home a book from school called "The Mouse Box." Sounded innocuous enough. Quite sweet even.

Here is a brief synopsis:

Two kids find a dead mouse. They are sad. They would like to have a funeral for the mouse.

OK. Important to learn about death. In a subtle and tasteful way.

My brain wasn't really paying attention but my mouth kept reading.

After a while I really wished it hadn't.

The children's sister sees them holding the dead mouse (this part reminded me of my previous post about Gerry the Gerbil and the Curry Tsunami. Except their mouse is dead. Gerry was just acting.)

The big sister isn't very happy and tells them they need to wash their hands. The children still want to bury the mouse, so they start to look for a box. They go up to their sister's room and see she has an empty chocolate box. They put the dead mouse in the box. Unfortunately, children have a very low attention span. They get distracted and leave the box unsupervised. Big sister goes into her room, sees the chocolate box, gives it a shake and thinks she has some left. So she decides to take them to school. To share.

Which was nice.

It didn't go down well.

Not surprisingly when she is offering dead mouse carcass as a treat. What I love the most (spoiler alert) is that when the kids come to bury the mouse and can't find the box, they don't give two shits about where it might be. The end.

Oh, to be a Disney Princess..just for one day...

"When the raindrops keep tumbling,
Remember,
you're the one who can fill the world with sunshine."
Snow White

One of my rays of sunshine just turned, in her words: " A whole hand plus one."

Mr G (maybe that should now be X Mr G) and I, decided to take her for a Princess makeover at the Disney Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique in Harrods, London. It was a long shot that she was going to get with the programme, as what she lacks in princess style tendencies, she more than makes up for in Light Saber and Nerf gun capabilities. She is, most certainly, the Disney Princess for a new generation. There is no waiting around for a handsome prince (she will just accost them and make them her boyfriend at breaktime in the playground), no beautiful dress (it lasts about 5 minutes on..then it is too itchy and annoying) and her hair is the epitome of Tangled.

Despite using more leave in conditioner, hair masks and wide tooth combs than Rapunzel ever did.

Still. We thought it would be an experience.

I had the whole "have I done enough as a parent" middle class debate with myself before we went. This was mainly due to the fact that there are four tiers of packages available, ranging from the "Royal" Experience at £1000, to the "Courtyard" Experience at £100 per child. Clearly the Feudalist system is still alive and kicking in Great Britannia. I very nearly convinced myself that I needed to pay the extra £300 to make the jump from the "Crown" Experience at £200 to the "Castle" Experience at £500. Then I decided the last thing I need in my new home is more Disney plastic shite everywhere. Seriously. I would only end up paying some "serf" to come round and clean it up twice a week. And you just can't get a decent serf these days.


All "jesting" aside...it was a really good experience. This is what the male contingent of our party thought:

And this is what the Princess thought when she was having her hair done:

That, my friends, is her expression of shock.

She was very pleased with the results though. Probably not as pleased as her wonderful "Fairy Godmother in training" was that the hair style the Princess chose covered up the massive chunk of hair the "X Mr G" chopped out as it was so Tangled. It's the lumpy bit sticking out in the photo at the back.

But the amazing "Fairy Godmother in training" did EXACTLY what was described on the tin, with a charm and efficiency I wish I had every day when getting my Princess ready for school. She really was the Fairy Godmother I wish could appear every morning. This is the result:

For all my slightly sarky comments, my daughter was made to feel like a Princess for the entire experience. If you arrive earlier your child gets given a pager and you WILL end up browsing the adjacent Disney store beforehand. (FYI you can buy all the Disney plastic shite in there for less than the upgrade price.) Every member of staff in the Disney store stopped and spoke to her, as did the staff in the Harrods toy department after. She didn't quite get the Harrods doorman with the umbrella opening the door on our way out, but that was possibly because some glamorous blonde "real princess" was making her way IN and he was otherwise occupied.

For the record, the next day I took her horseriding. She fell off. Into a MASSIVE puddle of cold wet mud.

So it just shows. One day you can be sat on your throne like a princess, and the next day lying down in a puddle of mud and horse shit wondering what went wrong.

I feel I am teaching her well. Not quite supermom style.

Thrifty little bugger!!

Well...it was my BIRTHDAY recently...and i have to say I had the best birthday for quite a number of years. Let's just ignore the extra year it puts on my age (not helpful for dating...but hugely helpful in a "know more about the world way".... mustn't grumble...)

What really made it for me, apart from spending an amazing weekend away with my children, was just quite how thrifty/ ingenious/ resourceful my eldest son has become.

Behold...my Birthday card

drumroll.....

Superb work. Now, THAT is how men multi-task...clearly it becomes evident at a young age....

Bored Games

Every parent knows the importance of sitting down with your children and spending quality family time playing board games. Sometimes difficult because, lets face it, board games for children can be pretty BORING. And they mainly end in tears. In my case normally mine as my frustration level reaches maximum. Or i get beaten.

Its also quite difficult to find the time to sit down and play when there is sooo much to be doing.

Which is why I have cunningly devised a scheme whereby everyone is happy.

Its called "Real Life Supermarket Jenga"




Ideal for keeping the kids happy while out shopping.

Am sure it will take off.

Incidentally..during the same shopping trip I also happened to notice that the staff are clearly bored as well...



Brilliant!

Down on the farm...

Ah.

Joy.

The school holidays are finally upon us.

Cue lovely days out and happy contented children running around giggling. Or in my case..constant fights, messy house and children telling me they are boooooored.

In order to head off the boredom complaint i decided to plan an itinerary of "things to do, people to see, places to go." So hopefully when creating their path of devastation and chaos, my children do this at OTHER places..and not in my house. See. Thinking ahead.

So i gathered up a handful of leaflets for local attractions so we can have some fun days out..hopefully in Supermom style combining fun with education. I was quite excited to pick up a leaflet for Old Macdonalds farm park and started leafing through it to see exactly what was on offer for us on a grand day out. However...when i turned to the centre page of the leaflet I got a bit of a shock. I did wonder whether it is only me who notices this type of stuff. But SLAP BANG in the centre of the leaflet...pretty much a centrefold picture was this:





HOW did they not notice?

I love flatpacks...

i went to Ikea.

Lucky lucky me.

After the mandatory meatballs and counting of pregnant nesting women ordering their husbands about and measuring things i took myself down to the warehouse bit and purchased a few lovely flatpacks to spend the rest of this year assembling.

Having opened a carton and withdrawn the instructions from the little plastic bag containing twenty thousand small screws of which i will always have at least 10 left over and panic about the safety of the structure i have just built...i sat down to read said picture instructions.

I was immediately struck by just how ACCURATE they are....






THAT is EXACTLY what i looked like...except with more hair and a dress on.

Uncanny.

you learn something new everyday...

My lovely adorable eldest son just had a school trip to learn more about life in Britain during the war. On his return he was asked to write a newspaper article. All very educational.

So educational in fact that even my jaw dropped in shock at what i learnt whilest reading the article in a room full of parents waiting to see the teacher. Then i had to do that tricky task of trying not to laugh uncontrollably at an inappropriate time. Here is the best bit...and the most educational...





A few thoughts ran through my brain.

1. No wonder the children "where amased what the money was like". i think i would have been too...
2. How did Miss Prince his teacher find out it takes 12 penis' to make a shilling. Maybe she needs a pay rise
3. Well done to my son for being able to spot fakes. He will be very useful to me when trying to purchase designer handbags on Ebay.
4. we need to work on his spelling as i cant have him going through life thinking thats correct..although it is tempting..


A+ for effort i think

election time

You may NOT have heard about it but we here in the UK had an election recently..I know..probably passed you by bit like it did me..
However, I did decide to vote and took the children for a "family outing" to the polling station.
They were dead excited and got dressed in their very smartest clothes. Felt a bit bad building it up to them...when all you actually do is put a cross on a piece of paper and pop it in a box.
So...
on the way I decided to play a game.
Notquitesupermom: "I know kids...when we get to the polling station lets tell everyone we are voting for someone really funny..like the honey monster or Tony the Tiger...you know..lets just say someone really funny who hasent got a hope in hell of winning."
Ryan: "we could say we were voting for Gordon Brown. That would be funny"
Notquitesupermom: *first time in her life....speechless*

When did my 8 yr old become so politically savvy???
I feel old.

Gerry The Gerbil and The Curry Tsunami

The evening of the Curry Tsunami started off innocently enough.

Gerry had obviously had a normal kind of Gerbil day...get up, drink a bit out his space bottle, have a spin on his wheel, little bit of food..maybe quick spin in space buggy...little sleepy wrapped in cotton wool....some more food...you know...the usual gerbil routine..

Although clearly Gerry had other ideas that evening..

He was sooo up for an adventure it wasn't even funny...

Hahaha...actually...I lie...it was sort of funny in an "all wells that ends well" way..

Anyway..

It was a Saturday night and I had cooked a lovely curry, left the pan in the sink filled with water to soak and went through to the lounge to watch a dvd and drink wine.

You know. Normal stuff.

Bottle of wine later I decide to pop back into the kitchen to replenish supplies.

Am pottering round the kitchen when out the corner of my eye I spot something unusual lying by the sink..

It took a moment for my brain to catch up with my eyes.

It was Gerry the gerbil. Soaking wet. Gasping for breath.

I ran over to the sink...kind of like a slow mo Baywatch run. Clearly I didn't have a red swim suit on as was in pyjamas.

NotQuiteSupermom: *slow mo* "Nooooooooo...Geeeerrrryyyyy..."
Gerry: *gasp*

As I was doing my 2 metre slow mo Baywatch run across the kitchen I tried to establish the facts. Gerry had clearly escaped. He also obviously:
A. likes swimming in curry water
B. Likes curry
C. Needs glasses as he couldn't see where he was going and accidentally plopped off the kitchen side into the pan in the sink
or D. He is an adrenaline junkie and the space buggy just isnt enough excitement for him anymore.

I wrap his teeny weeny curry smelling body in a tea towel and start stroking him. He smelt really spicy.

Just then he took one long drawn out breath....and then..nothing....

NotquiteSupermom: *wailing* "Nooooo...Gerry...dont die, dont die, come on Gerry..fight"
NotquiteSupermom *in her head to herself* "Oh bugger..I dont want to do CPR on a gerbil. I wouldnt even know how and there is no time to Google it.."

I run through to the lounge, clutching his lifeless body in the tea towel.

Notquitesupermom: *crying hysterically* "Mr G, Mr G, its Gerry. Hes dead."
Mr G: *slowly peeling his eyes away fom the film..as he is used to dealing with a hysterical wife* "Sorry..what? Whats happened?"
Notquitesupermom *gasping for breath as she had run oooohh all of 4 metres* "Gerry.... Curry.... Pan.... Sink.... Water... Dead."
Mr G: "Have you tried CPR?"
NotquiteSupermom: "Erm..... No.... You do it."
NotquiteSupermom: *sobbing relentlessly and starting a eulogy* "He was the nicest Gerbil anyone could ever have..look at his beautiful little nose..and his tiny curry smelling body..*stroking him*...remember the time he drove into the skirting board in his space buggy and nearly knocked himself out?..Oh..Gerry..always living on the edge...I suppose it was only a matter of time before his passion for excitement got the better of him..he was such a happy little gerbil..I only hope he didnt suffer too much and died doing what he loved best......."

Just then a miracle occured.

Gerry suddenly sprang back to life.

UNFORTUNATELY for Gerry..I wasn't quite expecting this turn of events.

I screamed and threw him up into the air.

He landed with a soggy "splat" on the carpet.

Mr G: "Well..if he wasn't dead before..I'd say he probably is now."


Luckily for me, just as I was contemplating:
A. How to dispose of the body and cover my tracks
B. How on earth to explain to the children that Gerry was dead and it was ALL MY FAULT...
... another act of divine intervention occurred.

Gerry clambered up onto his feet..gave me a really really dirty look (potentially he didnt rate my curry making skills as highly as I did)...and scurried off under the sofa.

It took a while after that incident for Gerry to find it in his heart to forgive me...but I think he knew I didnt mean it...just that sudden movements from dead gerbils can give you a bit of a shock..

Wascally Wittle Wodents...

Have been thinking ALOT about hamsters recently.

Not in a weird "get yourself locked up" kind of way

But just generally...

Have been watching this programme too many times with kids

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MCrQ1KOos98

It's not rude so you can watch it with the kids.

(Incidentally I do all the voices for the characters..odd talent I have..discovered by accident)

Soooooooo...

Was thinking about our past array of animals...

Obviously..we have The Dogs. If you aren't familiar please refer to Canine Capers story....

Then my thoughts turned to Gerry. The Gerbil.

He had a turbulent life...

Poor thing.

Gerry was purchased from 'Pets r Us.' Kind of like 'Toys r Us' except for the fact that they deal in Real Life things and not things that need triple A batteries to get them moving...

We spent a small fortune on the ideal crash pad for Gerry...unfortunately it wasn't quite on this scale:-


(some facts for you...this is Jake Hamsters cage. It took a year to build..is over 5ft high...and provides 17.5 feet of running space....)

Yes I know...

Its a bloody hamster.

We did however purchase this item for Gerry:



You know..just in case he needs to make a moon landing or something. Best to be prepared.

Cost of Gerbil: £3.75
Cost of Gerbil Accessories: £94.72p

Hmmm.

We settled Gerry into his new pad and he seemed very happy...and content. He didnt seem to run around as much as I thought gerbils would but just liked to lie relaxing. By the next day I was getting a bit bored as he didn't seem to want to do anything.

I decided to take him to the vet. First in series of expensive trips. The vet diagnosed a broken leg (he did mini xray and everything). Gerry needed 3 nights at the vets. I decided to call Pets r us to complain.
Notquitesupermom: "hello..you sold me a gerbil yesterday that has a broken leg"
Helpful shop person: "Do you still have your receipt"
Notquitesupermom: "yes..why?"
Helpful shop person: "oooo..bring in the gerbil with the receipt and we will exchange your gerbil for one without a broken leg."
Notquitesupermom: (suspiciously) "But what will you do with Gerry the Gerbil?"
Helpful shop person: "Oh don't worry about that."
Notquitesupermom: "Well I am worried. He's like family now....I know he only cost £3.75 and £94.72 in accessories but I am slightly concerned about his welfare if I bring him back...my mind is thinking you might get out a shovel..."
Helpful shop person: (sighing) "well the other alternative is for you to pass the vets bills onto us."
Notquitesupermom: "very happy to do that..he has been receiving round the clock treatment....will definitely send you the bill."

Gerry led a very happy and productive life from that point on...until the day of Gerry the Gerbils curry Tsunami.

That day he cheated death.

Twice.