Tuesday, 1 November 2011

This used to be a Funhouse........GET IT OFFFFFFF!!!!!!

Yes I know I have disappeared off the face off the planet for a few weeks, but at the request of my fabulous baking friend N, I am back again waffling....

Thursday night was the annual school Halloween party and as usual I was roped in.  H gave it a miss as he is of a nervous disposition and wouldn't have slept for a week if he had witnessed some of the costumes. Especially at the second disco for the older kids. I wasn't too enamoured myself.  A kid dressed a Jason from the horror film Friday the 13th, and one running about with a fake cleaver which was eventually confiscated. Why would you let your kid loose, dressed as a character from an Over 18's film? One particular participant lurked in the darkness dressed as a freaky clown. H is terrified of clowns and I didn't even mention it, as he has a fit if you so much as play Pink's Funhouse tune with the line, 'This used to be a Funhouse and now it's full of Evil Clowns..', cue hysterics and screams of 'get it off!...'  L however was far more enthusiastic and took off with her pal to the disco dressed as Goths complete with white faces and lace gloves. They looked like a pair of anaemic trannies....

The kids started their new swimming lessons tonight. We have moved as L had reached the maximum grade and now just needs to build her stamina. It was a mum's night out with myself, I, A and J all trailing our respective offspring for a dip. They had recommended the venue, so I hitched a lift and after getting them sorted,  left the pool to observe at a safe distance.  I am glad I couldn't see too much. The last pool they were learning in was reasonably shallow, this one was not. L got the fright of her life when she jumped in to what she didn't realise was six and a half foot of water. I wasn't particularly worried about her as she is a competent swimmer and once she got used to the depth was fine.  I nearly had heart failure when I spotted H though. A non swimmer, he was valiantly struggling along in the deep end with a float the size of a postcard. I couldn't bear to watch and yet couldn't drag my eyes away.  'I' was her usual reassuring self. 'Don't worry if he gets in trouble, the teacher's got a big pole'.  There really was no answer to that.   I stared in horror through the glass at my wee boy who might as well have been floating in the English Channel......