Trouserless

The glow-in-the-dark fest continues. Not content with making his brother glow in the dark (see 'Slime'), the Pie was delighted to discover that the banana medicine he has been given for his dodgy ear has turned his urine fluorescent yellow. What really rocked his world, though, was the later discovery that the fluorescent wee wee also glows in the dark. The Pie is extremely proud of this. I'm particularly looking forward to him announcing it at church tomorrow, and offering to show the vicar (water of life, anyone?).

After a night spent on the lash at my work bash I was feeling fragile and indulging in a packet of Scampi Flavour Fries in an attempt to recovery my sanity. Things were starting to look up when I heard the dreaded DING DONG of the doorbell and a lot of yelping. The Pie and the Kong were back from my friend's house. She handed the children over, muttered something about needing a stiff drink, and sped off. She may even have left the engine running, I can't be sure. And I'm pretty certain she didn't have that grey streak in her hair when I dropped them off with her last night.

Within about sixty seconds of the boys being back in the house there was a bowl of pasta in tomato sauce upended on the floor and another of suspiciously-named 'chicken dinner' dripping down through the radiator. Cue much cursing and yet more wiping from me, and howls of rage and delight from the Axis. I desperately shovelled some food in the boys and then shovelled them into the car.

We went to a funfair in Portishead with Rambo and Jambo and their grandchildren (don't ask), and everything was tickety-boo until post-ice cream, the Kong puked (surprise, surprise) and then the Pie, very unusually, didn't quite make it to the toilet. Apparently the antibiotics he is on can sometimes affect their bladder control. The new neighbours are getting used to seeing the Axis in the morning in shoes, trousers, shirts and coats, and then seeing them return in just their pants. Apparently, the less clothes my children are wearing, the better time they've probably had. If I learnt nothing else from my colleagues last night, I learnt that some things never change.

Rambo recounted a story about his grandson, the Pie's Great Friend (PGF). Apparently Rambo had been called to the Headteacher's office because the PGF was in trouble. 'These two BOYS,' thundered Teach, 'have been weeing up the wall and trying to see who could get it higher!' Knowing Rambo, I can just imagine his expression - a mixture of pride and mirth I expect. 'Well,' he said, 'they all do that, don't they?' Teach's frown darkened. 'These are the only two who have been doing it!' Rambo frowned back. 'These are the only two who have been CAUGHT.' Rambo was asked to leave when he asked if the PGF or the other offender had won. PGF later informed him that he had, and demonstrated how. He had been practising by aiming at the sunflowers in his back garden, which were all mysteriously seedless now. But at least they don't glow in the dark, like ours do.