About that playdate…

The kids be CRAZY after school. New year, new term, new teacher. It’s all a touch overwhelming, really.

A weekday play date seemed just the tonic.

Or so we thought…

It started out well playing quietly with the train set. Us mums drank tea. Then it quickly degenerated.

“I’m making a Mummy Block!”, my friend and I heard from upstairs.

Oh dear… In case you aren’t clued up on what a “Mummy Block” is, just imagine a pile of ANYTHING ¬†found easily to hand in a child’s bedroom blocking the door to stop grown-ups entering. Luckily, we arrived to a pile of ankle height Schleich animals, Not too taxing a blockade.

Then, I was brutally attacked by a crocodile.


But suddenly, the battle cry came, “LET’S THROW ALL OUR CLOTHES ON THE FLOOR!”

And within mere minutes, we watched dejectedly as three young children gleefully threw every conceivable item they could find on the floor. Pants, socks, t-shirts, handknitted cardies, fluorescent trousers – you name it, it came out.

Piles and piles and piles of it. It was actually quite impressive.

After a brief respite of a fish finger tea, us mums grabbed some bags and stuffed all the clothes into bags. Because, come on, it was 5.30pm and re-folding and tidying away reams of clothes was not going to happen that night. Added to that, we were surrounded by three children with that special glint in their eye – the glint that says “Welcome to Crazytown. Population :ME”.

Us mums were corralled into the lounge and screamed at for several minutes – not in the tantrum way, but in the “how-loud-can-we-scream-this-is-hilarious-hahaha-now-mum-has-a-headache” kind of way. I let the kids take pictures using my camera. Possibly a mistake, as I ended up with several shot of the ceiling, the arm of the sofa, some books, and three pictures of Noemi’s (clothed) arse. I was snapped myself, however, and here is that result…

A strong look, I think you’ll agree.