In Good Company: As Exciting As An Attack Of The Flu
Enid Blackburn presents some more delicious reflections on the domestic scene.
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I thinkEaster holidays are about as exciting as an attack of the flu. Cold, shivery and considering the exorbitant pricing of today’s fancy packaging, could leave me in a poor condition.
Easter egg buying looks like being a costly business. If only this product could be affected by bad weather or perhaps the Easter chicks could become egg-bound. Unfortunately, however great the demand, prices remain diabolically high.
It was the rising prices of this chocolate luxury that gave us the idea years ago to introduce ‘Easter Bunny’ into our household. As our family increased, the size of their Easter eggs decreased accordingly. Hoping to make this less noticeable we decided ‘Easter Bunny’ would hide them secretly the night before. Perhaps in the excitement of the hunt they would forget for once their legends concerning the gigantic and numerous eggs that tantalisingly adorned their pals’ sideboards.
We hoped it would also help to preserve them, perhaps for once we could enjoy our boiled eggs without the pervading smell of vanilla.
During my burst of enthusiasm I hadn’t realised how difficult the task of burying five Easter eggs, three at dwarf level, was going to be. After desperate scrutineering, the job was eventually completed. As the clock on the mantelpiece ticked us into Sunday morning, I awakened our bored egg marketer to tell him it was time for bed and the moment our eyelids closed the rampage started, or so it seemed.
Doors slammed, drawers and contents scattered then five minutes later – blissful silence, broken only by the sickening sound of five busy jaws indulging in their favourite occupation of chocolate eating. Unfortunately the participants enjoyed their expedition so much it has now become our Easter ritual, with the added burden of clues, in rhyme of course.
But I confess it works, everyone becomes so involved, the size of the prize is forgotten! If you can find a sneaky hiding place they also last twice a long.
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ONLY a few more days to go and the youngsters will be filling the kitchen table with their artistic creations, and we shall all be biting back our curiosity and trying not to say ‘What is it?’
When one of our children started school she was greatly honoured to have one of her drawings pinned on the classroom wall, ‘Come and see,’ she pleaded.
True enough, there it was. I recognised it straight away, a lifelike portrait of me. White haunted face, trimmed abundantly with black scribbly hair, a gigantic pair of bright red hands with matching nose completed the picture. As last seen at the breakfast table no doubt! In case there was any doubt teacher had kindly printed underneath in bold letters ‘Here is Heather’s Mummy.’
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I NOTICE that crash helmets are now being advocated for car riders, I still haven’t mastered the seat belts. We recently had the displeasure of a trip to Reading via the motorway.
After spending five feverish hours strapped in the front seat like someone about to be electrocuted, while our three out-of-reach ‘monsters’ went berserk on the back seat, and trying to retrieve the fallen road map with my feet as our driver frantically enquires if this is our turn off, I think I could find the addition of a crash helmet a trifle inhibiting. But my enthusiasm for family motorway trips is definitely on the wain. Travelling with a family can be really hazardous – one has to be prepared for anything.
During one hot return journey from the coast, we were speeding happily up the motorway, the children fighting merrily in the back, me doing my elastic neck act in the front – you know the feeling the moment your eyes close an elasticated reflex drags you dislocatingly back. Suddenly there was a terrifying explosion from the rear.
Speaking in an unknown language, which roughly translated meant ‘What the hell?’ our driver braked sharply throwing us in all directions.
After a deathly silence we discovered a thin piece of rubber tied with string, the remains of a dog-shaped balloon presented to our youngest the preceding evening. For the rest of the journey we were all suitably subdued!
