Welcome to the mad mad house

I live in a mad house. I do. I can honestly tell you that it is true, I live in an actual mad house. Well , at least I believe I do…
At any given point, on any given day , you could walk through our front door and be greeted with the smell of burning, normally potatoes. You may or may not trip over a buggy, a rogue shoe, a lego piece, a disregarded banana or even a child, one thing for certain is: You will trip.
There is always music blasting from the kitchen radio, both TV’s will be on, with ‘E’ going back and forth watching both but not watching either….it is a skill my boy has mastered over his 12 years on this earth. He will squeal with delight in between rambling from room to room, looking at the TV, while kicking and hitting anyone or anything in this path.
‘E’ will take it upon himself to check out exactly what his younger brother is doing, not by asking, oh no, by pulling his hair and dragging his hooded jumper to get ‘J’s attention. These actions are typical of our boy ‘E’ (he cannot help himself). ‘J’ on the other hand will screech from the top of his lungs ‘AHHH Leave me ALONE…UHHH’, there will be a two second beat…’MOMM-UHH’.
I will be the woman running around in an ill-fitted tracksuit sporting some of the latest fashions in baby sick and I probably ( shamefully ) will have forgotten to brush my teeth…again. My darling baby will be attached to either my hip or my left foot, he seems to like my left foot, odd little kid!
If your visit is planned, I will have biscuits kept from the last visitor we had, they are not, I repeat, NOT for you. They are never for the visitor! They are for ‘E’ as an aide to help me converse with you for a whole 7 minutes ( this is approx the length of time it takes E to eat six biscuits ).
If you’ve timed your visit well, the baby may be napping, half napping or I’ve just put him up for a small break , because I can’t send myself to bed. I may even put the kettle on but you will be entrusted to make the tea, I will be singing and dancing to ‘Mickey Mouse’ or refereeing a ‘MOMM-UHH’ match or I may be trying to figure out when I actually put the meat in the oven….before or after the baby had the runs!
If you have timed your visit badly, you will know, you will just know. The baby will be handed to you as I run towards the most urgent noise.
If you show up unannounced….roll up your sleeves and jump right in…welcome to the mad house!

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geraldinesmyth@gmail.com

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