So I am asleep in bed when the phone rings at 10.30 Saturday night. Hubby is driving Bear into the city for somene's 18th party. About 20 teenagers SCREAM down the phone, "IS BEAR THERE?" for about 2 minutes. I answer in my best middle-aged mother's voice, "This is his mother" and I can hear myself getting stiffer and stiffer with each SCREAMING response.
Finally they hang up. At 12.30am, a maxi taxi pulls up outside, and out tumble a hoarde of teens, still screaming, yelling, laughing, calling out.
I turn over and go back to sleep, I am exhausted.
In the morning I peer down the staircase, to count bodies. One, two, or sorry, three, (there are 2 bodies in one sleeping bag, *coughs) four and five. I begin to cook breakfast, lots of juice, 2 huge carafes of iced water, fresh coffee and pots of tea...hash browns, fish fingers, lots of eggs, and a large fruit salad with bannana, apple and passionfruit.
The heater is on, the table is set, just have to wake the kids, and soon music and chatter fill the house. It's nice.
Bear's good friend Jerry comes in to say good morning, with a concerned "Did we wake you Patty?"
"YES JERRY, YOU DID!!" I grin.
He gives me a lovely hug and apologises, and the girls help me tidy the dishes away. All good.
No comments:
Post a Comment