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.

Slime

The Pie is a strange child. I bought him some play slime from a craft shop. The idea is that you mould it into monster shapes and put it in a pre-made haunted house. Unsurprisingly, the Pie had other ideas. First, he carried it around with him for a whole day, refusing to be parted from it even at Sunday school - the teacher had brought in some teddy bears for the children to 'look after'. She was not particularly impressed when I told her that Pie would probably eschew Tedward in favour of his box of slime. Sure enough, the box of slime was duly fed, watered, and cuddled all morning. I am not Sunday school's favourite parent. I think they think I'm 'dodgy'.

This morning I came downstairs to find the Pie had scaled the tall bookcase and retrieved the box of slime. Today was a whole new day though - rather than cuddles, the unfortunate slime found itself smeared all over the carpet while the Kong rolled around in it hooting wickedly. I managed to dislodge the Kong from the slime, and the slime from the carpet, but for some reason, the Kong now glows in the dark. I'm fairly sure it's not his natural reactivity.

My lovely neighbour/landlady/friend came back from her hols today. The Pie saw her car in the drive and immediately demanded to go round. I hastily cut some of the more passable flowers in the garden, thrust them into the Pie's eager clutches and took them round. Despite the fact that she'd just got back, both boys batted their (incredibly long and dark) eyelashes at her and somehow they disappeared round her house all afternoon, returning with a Buzz Lightyear doll and tons of overexcitement after I'd had a nap.

The more exciting development round here, however, is that the new people have moved in next door. Mum and Dad seem nice enough; however, for the Pie, the only one who matters is the daughter, who is 10, and who peered over the gate and said 'Hello. I'm your new neighbour. I'm SOOOO glad my new neighbour has a little boy for me to play with. I was SOOOO worried it would be incredibly boring round here.' And with that, she flicked her hair and pranced off inside, oblivious to the Pie's jaw hitting the deck and the Kong's eyes opening a mile wide in astonishment...

This is going to be interesting.

Woof!

Yesterday I took the Pie and the Kong to the dog show. That was my first mistake. Having tired of harrassing elderly at church that morning, the Pie's attention turned to the dogs. As we were in south Bristol, I was keen to calm him down a bit. Imagine my surprise when I lost sight of him for a second to see him leaping through hoops on the dog agility course with a large Alsation (possibly named Coco), much to the delight of several Stella-swigging spectators, and to the dismay of the organisers who were running behind demanding to know if he'd paid his £3 entry...

Wretched Pie. When I finally caught up with him towards the perimeter, I reached over, grabbed his pants, and winched him up and over the fence. The bloke with two Rottweilers next to me tutted and said 'Aww! He was about to do the double hoops! No-one's managed that all day!'. I glared at him and tried to convince the Pie that I WAS NOT LAUGHING.

The boys' dad rang later that day to complain about the Kong. I am rather pleased with the Kong at the moment, as he always eats all his dinner and is being extremely chubby and cuddly. Plus, he has charmed the pants off everyone we've met for the past month, including half the church, which, in an area like ours, is most definitely a plus. (Conversely, Pie broke the neighbours' son's Sonic Screwdriver, and sadly, the Child Tax Credit won't stretch to buying another; nor will it pay for a gardener to replace no. 21's prize gladioli or explain what happened to Dr Cates' hospital pager).

It turns out that Daddio (who is skint - ha!) was getting some drawers delivered from John Lewis and shut the Pie and the Kong in the living room while the delivery man hauled them up the stairs. Once the man had gone, Daddio took them to look at the new drawers. The Kong could not contain his excitement at such a treat and scrambled over to the brand new drawers, opened one up and was promptly sick in it...Daddio on the phone: 'I mean, it had been in the house for SIXTY FUCKING SECONDS!'...Go Kong! You loyal boy!

The Kong and the Pie went to Pizza Express again today. I was at my wits' end with them, and my dad had come to visit, which is rarely good. Cue an horrendous mealtime, culminating with the following exchange with me and the waitress:

Me: Is the service included?
Waitress: Yes, it's included.
Me: (indicating the boys and the table and the mess) You should get extra for this.
Waitress: (looking at the boys) YOU should get extra for this.

Tomorrow we are all spending all day IN BED.