As promised, here follows my report on this year’s Mothering Sunday after last year’s non-event. Or Mothering Weekend, as it turned out, to make up for last year. That’s right, a whole glorious weekend off!
I’m not sure whose nerves are more frayed: mine or Misery Guts. Who really lived up to his name. The high points were this:
1) No cooking. Beer battered cod for tea on Friday; pancakes with bacon and maple syrup for brunch on Sunday, I was not to enter the kitchen.
2) Two lie ins. Two.
3) Not having any involvement in a poonami for which the only remedy was a bath. Priceless.
4) Tea and cake in one of my favourite cafés (pictured).
Of course, with high points come low points…
1) Misery Guts halved everything in the beer battered fish recipe except the beer. Meaning the batter wouldn’t stick to the fish. It did a great job of sticking to everything else though, including the biscuit tin and the toaster.
2) The pancakes weren’t straight forward either. I’m not quite sure what went wrong here – I was afraid to ask, but the smoke was incredible. When I later enquired whether it was the cooking or the multi-tasking required, I was told in no uncertain terms it was both.
3) After arriving at said favourite café, Misery Guts yanked the rain cover from BB’s push chair without undoing the Velcro strips which keep it fastened at the bottom. They don’t keep it fastened at the bottom anymore. They’re in my coat pocket.
There are more low points – a fight between Misery Guts and the dyson and an altercation with a Quinny wheel among them – but I won’t labour the point. The number of times he swore over the weekend has to be a record. And I’m sure he’s not the only one. Why on earth is Father’s Day in June? It quite clearly ought to follow Mothering Sunday – preferably on the Monday.
Then normal service can resume and we can all get back to doing what we do best.