coughs, poos and competitive sports, mainly

So today I will mostly be writing about coughs, poos and competitive sports. Sorry it has been so long since I last wrote. This has been in the main down to coughs and poos, but also downright laziness. 

Hubby still has pseudo-TB. Our nice doctor offered him antibiotics, but he declined, deciding to fight off the infection himself. All very brave and macho, but we have to listen to him hawking like old Steptoe all night. Twin 2 also still has cough. Our housekeeper says we should stop letting her drink cold water, and that will cure it (not sure which medical establishment she trained at?). She also says we need to be careful of walking in bare feet on cold floors as that will give us diohrea (sorry, never can spell it). She may have a point, as I have been struck down with the runs yet again, although the doctor seems to think it's more likely to be down to Guardia than chilly marble flooring. 

Anyway, I'm on a diet of bananas and Dioralyte and antibiotics today, in the hope that I can recover enough for our weekend camping trip to Borderlands. All I know about Borderlands is that it's up near the Tibetan border and that we'll be in a tented camp near a river. I think there are exciting things like kayaking and bungee jumping on offer, but I suspect I will spend quite a lot of time pretending to be a baddie (Twin 1 told me this morning that all grown ups are baddies, so I don't have much choice) and being chased by space heroes, or pretending to be interested when someone points out a leaf that looks like an elephant, or something equally fascinating. I'm going to take a book in the vague hope that I might be able to lounge around a bit, but given our recent experience of family holidays, I'm not expecting to actually read more than a couple of sentences before someone needs a wet wipe/nappy change/air ambulance (don't think these exist in Nepal - best not to dwell on possible health and safety issues of camping in a remote spot in a developing country with small children, probably). So long as my bottom stops exploding I'm quite looking forward to it.

Ah yes, competitive sports, that was the other thing...

Took the Twins to a birthday party on Sunday. Hubby and Son stayed at home with (TB and tummy bug respectively) and watched Thunderbirds. It was a glorious day, the party house was on the edge of Kathmandu with a huge rambling garden and views of the mountains. The lawn was scattered with three and four year old girls in floaty dresses, happily running around pretending to be fairies/princesses/space heroes and mums were chatting over glasses of homemade lemonade. Idyllic. 

Then the dad came along to take charge of the party games. He was a nice chap, but for some reason insisted that the games should be: 

a. physically demanding

b. highly competitive   and

c. have only one winner

Now, Twin 1, despite her diminutive stature, is pretty speedy and competant, but even she tired of the relentless haranguing to jump further or run faster. And for Twin 2, as you know, running, jumping and hopping are simply physical impossibilities. I tried to keep a happy face on, whilst inwardly shouting 'What is wrong with pass the parcel and musical bumps, for God's sake?!'. 

Of course the four-year olds nabbed all the prizes and Twins got nothing.

The next party we have at our house we are going to hire an elephant and eat lots of crisps and chocolate. 

And anyone who mentions a relay race will be summarily executed.