Mr Oub arrives home tomorrow morning. Plane lands at 8am. While he has only actually been away for 8 days - somehow it feels like an eternity. It's sorta like that Star Trek episode where Captain Picard was rendered unconscious by some odd space probe. After which we see him live a whole lifetime on a distant planet - and then he wakes up just 25 minutes later back on the bridge of the Starship Enterprise. I feel like that. I'm just hoping I can wake up any minute now. And if Patrick Stewart happens to be there when I do, all the better.
It's been a tough week.
The kids went mental.
Toddler Oub was especially creative. In fact she really pulled out all the stops last night.
I heard a little voice calling me at around 9.30 last night. I went up to investigate.
Hands up who remembers the dirty protests in the Maze prison during the 1970's? Well, obviously Cbeebees has been putting on some gritty documentaries between Peppa Pig and Dora the Explorer as toddler Oub seemed shockingly well versed on the poo smeared across walls, floors and doors concept (as originated by those smelly IRA inmates...)
Sweet Baby Jesus in his heaven above, how can one child, so small, produce so much poo?? It was EVERYWHERE! If there ever was a time I wanted a space probe to descend and render me unconscious, last night was it.
I grabbed the boys, hot water, anti-bac spray, clothes pegs. We scrubbed poo off the walls. Off the carpet. Off the baby gate. And 45 minutes, and I am not kidding, 45 long, smelly, stinking, germ infested minutes later we finished. Well - we thought we'd finished decontaminating the area when, like Glenn Close leping from the bath, knife in hand, the door swung closed and there, we were confronted by even more poo art. There were tears.
I know, I know. TMI. But hey, it's meant to be healthy to talk when one is traumatised.
Anyway, I will wash, but never be clean again after that experience. I took a photo to guilt trip the hubby when he gets home, and eldest Oub child wrote a written account of events (to be saved until Toddler Oub brings her first boyfriend home.) 7 year old middle child took advantage of the situation to show off his superior vocabulary and declared the entire incident 'ludicrous'.
It's over now. We've Fabrezed everywhere and the windows are all open.
You just might not to visit my house for a few weeks.