Tuesday 22 June 2010

brush your teeth!

Hang on, I'm just going to pour myself a shandy, and then I'll be with you...mmm, nice (although made with diet sprite instead of proper lemonade, which takes the edge off a bit).
Right, what's been going on this week?
I am halfway through plotting the new book. My pinboard is filling up with index cards covered in different colour writing (disposable fountain pens in different colours, what a joy! I am easily pleased these days...). I have been reading and watching many dark and gritty things as research (eg. the hurt locker, fifty dead men walking, stakeknife, eight lives down, etc.) - so much so that it's frankly a relief to have Bill Bryson's Home to read at bedtime tonight, and not something that's going to make me cry or give me nightmares.
Oh, and talking about going to bed in tears, I'm the evil mother who made Twin 1 cry at bed time by shouting at her for only pretending to brush her teeth. Not good. Must try harder to be a better parent tomorrow (but equally, she should try harder to do as she's told!! oops, sorry, evidently still feeling a bit stressy about it).
Kids all got their reports yesterday from school. Apparently they are all a pleasure to teach. Perhaps that's because at no point in the primary curriculum do the teachers have to make sure they BRUSH THEIR TEETH PROPERLY (sorry, sorry, I'll have another swig of shandy).
On Friday I'm learning how to do Bollywood dancing with a group of other mums. Given how traumatic the whole Nepali dance thing was last year, I think it's not a great idea, but I didn't want to feel left out of the whole expat-mum clique. Perhaps I can hide at the back. The idea is that we all learn a dance and then perform it at someone's leaving party on Saturday. Most of the other mums (who will all no doubt actually be able to tell their left from their right) have already said they don't want to perform. However, I know from experience that if I have enough whisky inside me I will want to be on stage, regardless of my lack of flexibility, co-ordination, natural rhythm, or ability to do hot Bollywood moves.
Hubby is in Pokhara tonight. Yes, I know, he's only just back from sailing and now he's swanning off again. He claims it's work, but I suspect it's just an excuse to escape from my oral-health ranting. He's probably sitting in some nice calm dance bar, sipping overpriced beer, without entertaining even a passing thought to cavities or gingivitis in the under-10 age group. He's probably not even thinking about how his wife is going to make a right arse of herself this weekend when she attempts to become Shilpa Shetty or Ishwari Rai, and succeeds only in being, well, a forty-year-old-mum-of-three with music in her heart and whisky on her breath. He's probably thinking....nothing. He has probably opened up his 'nothing box' and hopped right in, along with a large bottle of Everest beer and a half-eaten dahl baht.
I only hope he gets out of his 'nothing box' before bed time and remembers to blooming well brush his teeth.
Goodnight x

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