I am writing while sandwiched between two sleeping children, two Lego alarm clocks and a glass of Weak Lemon Squash that I can’t reach. On a Saturday night. The rock and roll lifestyle is to be envied across the world. I am hoping that I don’t need to take a pee anytime soon as the process of clambering over them fills me with dread as my back is not in a great shape today.
We have been watching the Lego Movie in bed. To celebrate their new Lego Alarm Clocks – Winter Boy has Emmet and Summer Girl has Darth Vader. The purchase of said alarm clocks was to install a sense of time in them and not wake me by pretending to be invisible, crawling through the slightly open door and along the bedroom floor, while almost silently giggling. At 6am. On a Saturday. The message was clear. The alarm clocks will go off at 7:30am tomorrow. They are not to leave their room apart from to use the loo, if they really absolutely have to. They are not to play music, musical instruments, whistles, sing, laugh loudly, go into the kitchen and try to make me breakfast, put the tv on. They can play with their Lego, tidy their bedroom up (they actually laughed at that one), read to themselves, read to each other. And most importantly, in the ‘not to leave the room’ bit they absolutely must not Wake Me Up.
The irony is not lost on me. They have carried these alarm clocks everywhere today. Winter Boy in particular has not let his out of his mitts. Except now, as they snore (not so) gently next to me, their alarms are still set for 7:30am but by my head, one on each side. And I can’t move the sleeping babes as I can barely stand straight. I forgot R was away tonight, so his usual putting of them to bed when he comes home is not happening. They are staying put until 6am. Instead of in their own beds, until 7:30am with me in my kingsized bed All On My Own.
I might sleep on the sofa.
Do you have a Zombie Plan? You really do need one. After the assault on this place last night I am sorting mine out.
I am not kidding you. It took up most of my (disturbed many times by children) sleep and I even managed to go back to sleep twice and re-enter the mass onslaught from where I left off each time.
After hearing that Devon was being invaded by zombies, I ran with the other families to the local primary school where many parents were collecting their children before fleeing the impending terror of zombies, terrified for the safety of my children. One parent offered to take me, my daughter and some school friends out of town in her Bongo, to safety, across the Army Border. I let Summer Girl go (I have no idea where Winter Boy or R were) and felt happy and secure that she would be ok with her school friends. But I could not go with her. I had a job to do. It was all Very Dramatic.
I had to stay and fight with my three fellow Zombie Killers, all of whom I knew, but can no longer recall. And help those who could not leave. I called an ambulance because someone had hurt their back badly and helped them medically with a sense of purpose, we created shelter in a deserted cafe (conveniently stocked up) that could not be easily breached and searched for others in the area, bringing them back to our hideout. I remember feeling like all my knowledge was being used. I was Useful.
I felt excited! I was afraid but, more than that, exhilarated. I really wanted to see these bastard Zombies and put the many months of Mumsnet Zombie Planning into action. I felt sure that despite me not having a real plan, I had stolen enough of the plans of others to know we would kick their asses. I felt invincible
Did I see the zombies? Almost! They kept coming around a street corner or through a door and we would have to run back to our Cafe Shelter. We could see where they were coming from and for some reason they never got to where we were. And then, they found us. They were breaking through the entrance, forcing their way through the cafe to our hiding place at the back, they were here! And then I woke from this most bizarre dream that took up almost my entire night. At that exact moment. I was so disappointed. But, just as oddly, I spent the next 15 minutes making coffee, vaguely thinking that I really did need to sort out my Zombie Plan.
What The Actual Fuck Was That All About?
How did it get so late so soon? Its night before its afternoon. December is here before its June. My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?
– Dr Seuss