Saturday 5th November. It started fairly well:
Midi Minx: “Mummy, your breath smells AWWWWful!”
Me: “Well, that’s because I’ve not had my morning coffee, yet.”
Midi: “Why you always drink coffee?”
Me: “Because you always come in my bed at night and wake me up so I feel tired all day.”
Midi: “Oh. Well, I always drink wine.”
Me: “That’s nice. What do you want to drink with breakfast, then?”
Midi: “Mllllk. Cold. Actually”
(Yeah, she really pronounces it like that, without the ‘i’)
It was mine and The Boss’s 6th wedding anniversary. That’s traditionally iron. I guess we both anticipated that an electrical iron as a present would be reciprocated with divorce papers. So we both had to up our game a bit. Well, I did. Last year’s ‘wooden’ anniversary present was a proper wooden porridge spurtle. It was just the perfect present: little, but thoughtful, useful (we eat porridge by the cauldron), it was simple and classically shaped, and it had a little loveheart carved in the top. Perfect. Clever man!
So, what about this year? Well, I found a very cool cast iron bike stand for my mountain-biking mental man (he seemed pretty pleased). And I unwrapped my present to find a little silver box, shaped like a star. Jewellery. Iron. Star. Shooting star? Meteorite?! Meteorite!! He’d got me a piece of a meteorite (1947, Siberia): my very own shooting star. He also wrote some very wonderful things in a card, which will remain private, but made my stony old heart just melt. What a wonderful, thoughtful person he is!
Even though I’d explained that only the people celebrating the anniversary actually observe it, Maxi made us a little paper card, with our house and the whole family (even the cat) on it. Tellingly, she’d drawn all 3 girls in flamenco dresses..!
It was such a gloriously beautiful day that we decided to get out. Unlike last weekend, though, we did a mini declutter. So we had to via the dump first to get rid of the 3 big bags of baby clothes and plastic bottles. So we had to check out the ‘recycled’ bikes. And there were loads, just in Maxi’s size, so we got her a perfect purple one. So we had to go to the park via Lidl to pick up some groceries and check out the bargains. And bought half the shop in Christmas goods (pannetone, gingerbread hearts, gift wrap, etc, etc). So we had to have some lunch before we hit the park. And we were on such a high we decided on soup and a roll at the brilliant garden centre cafe. The girls were fantastically well-behaved just chatting, us 4, while The Boss waited in the longest line ever for 30 mins.
Why am I boring you with all this? To make the point that had we gone straight to the park, the day would have been a bit of a downer, instead of reasonably active and productive. Maxi and Midi had a play at the playground before getting on the bikes, while I walked Mini in the sling to get her to sleep. After maybe 15 minutes, from the far end of the park, I saw The Boss pick up a roaring Midi and hug her to him. His body language didn’t say ‘Panic!’, but it wasn’t right either. So I marched over as fast as I could. I forget what he said, but I could see Midi had fallen on her little bonce – she had a blue egg on her forehead with a red stripe through it, like the skin underneath had split from the force of the swelling.
We were amazingly calm about it. Spot the 3rd time parents who’ve seen their daughters get a fair few head injuries?
“I think we should get it checked out – it’s Saturday and what if she gets dizzy later?” The Boss reasoned.
“Hmmm, she seems ok. But yes, let’s go. Now. Maxi, we’re going. Climb down. Car!” I remember saying, briskly. Inside I felt like sinking to my knees and wailing at the sight of my baby’s little forehead, but outside I think I sounded like a bored robot. Maxi predictably threw a real strop at having to leave and Mini wasn’t too happy at waking up, but there you go. We did a quick detour via Co-op for a £1 bag of frozen peas to stick on Midi’s head, shielded by the cloth bag that usually holds Mini’s spare nappies, then off to A&E. Yes, the A&E Midi visited only on Wednesday and acquired a stethoscope from. The same one.
Bit of a washed-out photo, but here is the egg, a few hours later
We had to wait a wee while, which I’d warned the girls about. They idly people-watched, and seemed fascinated by the steady stream of sports injuries.
One rugby player sat trying to look innocuous while holding a wet towel to his obviously broken nose (it was plastered flat onto one cheek).
Midi: “Look at that man’s pink bogeys!”
He sniggered. So did I.
Needless to say, Midi was just fine. No concussion, no fractures, nothing. But I felt a lot happier that she was checked. And she got to say hello to some of her new ‘friends’ as well, which was nice for her.
...and in a Wee Free stronghold, too!
After spending a few hours at A&E we (even Midi) really weren’t in the mood to go back out, and besides, we had to eat to get out for fireworks (“We’re going to the bangs!”: Midi). Normally we go to the main town display near where we used to live. That’s always fantastic. The last 2 Bonfire Nights we’ve lived here, we’ve driven back to that town. But this year we thought we’d try our actual, nearest (bigger) town’s display. It was very, very good. But I think next year we’ll go back to the old town. There were more bangs, but they weren’t quite as amazing. And although I’m not a person of active faith, I did find the burning crucifix left over after the guy burnt off rather unsettling…
Midi screamed at the first few bangs, then despite quickly putting in earplugs, covering them with ear muffs and muffling the lot with a down-jacket hood, she still just wanted a big Daddy-Huggle. She didn’t see any of the fireworks, just snuggled into his shoulder. Och, she’s only 3, though! Mini was in the sling, so probably felt secure enough to watch it without fear at the noise. Maxi sat on the ground, counted the flying lanterns (she’s a massive ‘Tangled’ fan…) and oohed and aahed along with me.
I actually enjoyed just sitting in the car afterwards in the car park, waiting on the traffic disappearing before starting up, just chatting as a family. I’m really noticing how old the girls are getting – last year we could hold a conversation only with Maxi. Now it’s a proper 4-way. It’s not 5-way, yet: all Mini ever says is “Aye-wan-nat!” (I want that) over and over and over again. All day long. Bless.