I don’t get to go out very often, the demands of my children and attempting to keep a roof over our heads is very time consuming. My sons father has an hour a week to ‘slot’ his son into his busy schedule of playing video games and surfing. I thought I would push for a bit more father/son time by asking him to babysit my two children. It would be OK I thought, not only will this save me a bit of money, but it will be good for ‘Boy Wonder’ to have a bit more bonding time with his son…………hmmmmmmmm. I’ll have to give you a character assessment of ‘Boy Wonder’ and the circumstances on why we are not together later on. Suffice for now is to think Disney Dad, Peter Pan, the boy that never grew up and you’ll get the picture. He’s a good guy, doesn’t mean any harm, just a bit ‘slow’ on the uptake and socially awkward and, as he is a computer programmer, the brightest and dumbest person you could ever meet. I think you get the picture, (I’ll elaborate later) and, yes, we obviously had sex because we have a son.
He even finished that off with computer jargon, ‘transfer completed’ he would pant.
Now you can understand why we are no longer together.
Anyway, I digress and that’s another story.
So, I trusted ‘Boy Wonder’ to look after my kids for the first time last night so I could go out to the local theatre with friends. The odds of him arriving with the Star Wars trilogy in his back pack and light saber were high.
I have such a rock and roll lifestyle.
I left home at 7.00pm
I got a phone call at 10.00pm:
Boy Wonder; ‘(cough), can you come home, I’m sick’. I can hear my son screaming like a banshee and my daughter sounds distressed.
On arrival Boy Wonder is lying prostrate on my floor groaning. He proceeds to try and show me pictures of his puke, but looking at the state of my kitchen (puke) and toilet (poo), I’m guessing he isn’t lying. Boy Wonder has always had a weak constitution. Bless. Little violin playing on my shoulder.
Unimpressed with the mess I ask him if he needs me to drive him home. He declines, jumps up off the floor, says he is feeling better (it’s a miracle!) and goes into said ‘messy pooey bathroom’ to change into his bike gear to cycle the 10kms home. There is no effort to clean up the mess he has made, but he does remember to roll up his right trouser leg so it doesn’t get dirty on the bike chain.
Guessing that I have ‘rumbled him’ he then then ‘fakes’ another puking session and, I quote;
Boy Wonder; ‘I am so weak, can you please call me a taxi, I don’t know where I am’.
Me (opening a bottle of wine, edging around the puke, while sighing); ‘Haven’t you got a bloody girlfriend that you can call, I’m not your girlfriend or your mum and, seriously, if you are that sick let me call you an ambulance’.
Boy Wonder; ‘No, I just need to get home, I wish I did have a girlfriend, I really do NEED a girlfriend’
There is actually a man drought here in Sydney, so if there are any single girls out there looking for a boyfriend there is my second hand pansy boyfriend up for grabs.
This morning my daughter woke up and said, ‘Mummy I had a horrible time last night. He is a stupid man’.
From the mouth of a three year old….
Have to run, I have a toilet to clean up.
More to follow………………..