111. Evening drink

It is exactly 3.8 degrees in my fridge. I know because I have stuck the heating's remote control in there. Now my boiler is making that low humming sound that I love and that never fails to remind me of Christmas. Truly I am a little worried that our boiler might blow up. 

In my house it is now cosy and warm and out there in the big bad world it is all doom and gloom. We are prisoners again, locked up in our own homes. All we can go out for is work. That is so sad, isn't it? I have visions of Nelson Mandela leaving his cell to break some rocks. Except of course I don't smash rocks. No, no, no. My job is essential to the functioning of our society and I am truly happy about that.

My kids' presence in their varied educational establishments however does not appear to be essential to their functioning well. That is a real pity. This week-end they are all flocking home in various stages of excitement/despair.

Baby of the family is moaning and huffing and trying to send out signals that say 'hey, I am a teenager now, please someone, find the time to argue with me!'

As usual, my husband and I look at each other and decide like the mature people we are to say nothing. Been there. Seen it. Done that.

Even Miss Organiser seems to have lost her ability to organise things and has turned into Miss I-Leave-Everything-Lying-Around. She spends a lot of time in her PJs, keeps saying she's got a class (upstairs, in her bed) and never has time to do even the tiniest chore.

Our son is in between moaning and groaning about the fact that you cannot play rugby online (I'm keeping my mouth shut about PS4's, obviously!) and cheering about his (genius) generation to be the first to pass exams without actually sitting them. 

Maths-Head is in despair and thinks it is a tragedy that she cannot have all her lessons and all her exams. Her brother looks at her as if she was some kind of alien. We will need to mention driving but (similar to PS4) if I do there will be complaints that I think driving is more important than Maths and Physics. Silly me. Completely out of touch with the modern world! 🙄

A few hours later, all seems peaceful and calm in the household. So calm and peaceful that my husband and I sit by the fire to watch a movie. I have my glass of chilled Prosecco in one hand, a cocktail stick with two green olives in the other and I am about to place the first olive in my mouth to prepare it (my mouth) for the beautifully magic beverage.

BANG! 

I pause. Olive in mid-air. Pale golden ripples in the narrow glass.

This loud bang comes from upstairs and is quickly followed by a series of screams. AAAARGH! HUMPH! YAAAARGHA!!!

I am, live my beverage, trembling. What on earth is this? I look at my husband. He looks towards the ceiling.

SLUMP! CLANK! CHINK! NOOOOOOOOOOO! GRUMPH!

I decide now is the time to take a sip of wine and to munch on olives. Delicious. I am ready to go upstairs.

I open the bedroom door. It is pitch dark in there. The curtains are drawn and the lights are off. The room is still, quiet. I am a little worried. What is going on in here? Suddenly a beam of red runs across the room as a a loud whoosh accompanies it makes me jump. I haven't have time to figure out what this is all about when a second beam of light arches its way across the ceiling, again with a loud echoing swoosh. Follows a series of rapid successive swooshes and flashes of red and blue criss-cross the room. Then I hear my baby daughter's voice 'AAAAAAAH! You killed me!' as she slumps onto the floor boards and rolls around and screams in agony. I close the door and go back to my Prosecco.

'What's going on up there?' My husband asks me.

'You won't believe it.'

'Go on.'

'Our son and our baby daughter are playing with the light sabers you bought them all these years ago.'

Utterly unhelpful, my husband says:

'They're still good!'

'Honestly!' I sigh, then add: 

'Yes, still good. Lights and sounds and all.'

'Good. Better to have a good fight than to be glued to screens.'

One can only agree with that. So I turn my attention back to the olives and the wine, my husband presses play and the music of the movie covers the noise of the fighting above.