On Saturday my gorgeous, generous, thoughtful, wonderful, loving, funny, fantastic, amazing sisters took Screecher Creatures 1, 2 & 3 to the cinema to see Ice Age 4. Can you tell I'm grateful? Another adjective to describe them springs to mind - Brave! It was a fantastic morning for a number of reasons. Firstly, I kept it as a surprise and didn’t tell the boys until last thing. Well, 9am is last minute when the time of pick up is an hour later. I like to play guessing games with them when such a treat is imminent. I give a clue and they have to guess what the surprise might be. I didn’t get past the first clue that morning and Screecher Creature No. 1 got it in one. All I had to do was mention the names of the aunties in question and he put two and two together. Not surprising really when it is the same aunties all the time that bring them to the pictures. Even their parents don’t do that! I have never heard Screecher Creature No. 2 scream in excitement before but he did then, delighted with the prospect of a trip to the cinema. Screecher Creature No. 3, not to be outdone, began screaming too even though this would be his very first visit and he had no clue what the “cimena” was. And the other very obvious reason why someone taking three out of our foursome to the movies is fantastic, well it is the perfect opportunity for Mister Husband and I to avail of a spot of shopping in relative peace. I almost started screaming with excitement myself. The Screecher Creatures couldn’t wait to get going and spent ten minutes ringing the door bell, pretending their gorgeous, generous, thoughtful, wonderful, loving, funny, fantastic and amazing aunties had arrived to whisk them off to cinema heaven. At last the cavalcade of two cars drove up and I did a little dance and punched the air a few times much to the alarm of Screecher Creature No. 4. One car seat and two boosters seats later, we waved them off and I flung poor, abandoned Screecher Creature No. 4 into his car seat and off we went. Time was of the essence batman, as we only had a few hours and I was very eager not to waste any of them. The first thing on my list of “to do’s” was treat myself to a new over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder. A brassiere. An item of lyn-geree, or in layman’s terms, a new bra. For more than six years I have been wearing either maternity or nursing bra’s and it was high time they were binned and I invested in something else seeing as the baby (must stop calling him that. He’s 15 months old and definitely not a baby anymore!) “went off me” a week ago. The last time I browsed in the underwear department I had three willing little helpers who clearly thought leopard and other various animal prints were my thing. “Do you like this one, Mammy?” A tiger striped piece of dental floss was waved in my face. It might have fitted my thigh. “What about this, Mammy?” I could have worn it on my arm out running. It was the perfect neon hue for the job. Can you tell we were in Penney’s? As it was, the lovely lady in the “lawn-jer-eh” shop asked Screecher Creature No. 4 where his brothers were. He gurned back at her, delighted with the attention. Jesus, I hope she didn’t remember us from the last time when Screecher Creature No. 2 decided to hide under the sofa in the middle of the shop floor. No fear of him waving Bet Lynch’s underwear around in that place though, everything is very tasteful altogether. Maybe that’s why he hid; it bored the life out of him. But I digress. God, the morning was lovely, like a hot bath, only miles, miles better. The comfort. The peace. The uninterrupted conversations. The sunshine. The coffee shop. The book shop. The various clothes shops where it was bliss to be able to walk around and look at stuff without wondering if the pair of feet sticking out from under the display belonged to one of ours! Or indeed if the mannequin on display was actually one of them messing about. All good things must come to an end and it was time to head home in order to be there to welcome the Screecher Creatures when they arrived back, full of popcorn, fruit juice and Happy Meals. I was most eager to hear what Screecher Creature No. 3 thought of the whole cinematic experience. Not much by all accounts, he was panned out in his car seat, mouth slightly open and snoring softly. He made three separate requests to visit the bathroom and fidgeted like he had ants in his pants for the entire movie. Maybe a child two weeks shy of his third birthday is still a bit young for such an outing. But there was no way they were leaving the house without him; he would have been most upset looking out the window as they drove off. He may be three but he still has to be as good as them.
Uninteresting useless piece of information now. On our way to the shops, I learned a something about Katy Perry and her own bra. (God, how did I ever live before?) She, apparently, uses her cleavage in which to store stuff. Does she now, I thought, inwardly scoffing and feeling slightly annoyed that an American celebrity was getting actual media coverage over something so ridiculous. And normal. I mean, who doesn’t shove things down there? That’s where my phone goes when I run. It’s also a handy place to stick a tissue when you’re wearing short sleeves. Once I even used it as my personal ATM. So big deal Mz. Perry. Wait till you’re brushing out toast crumbs or digging away in public attempting to locate that rogue piece of Lego, or better still, trying to remove a small person’s hand. Then you’ll know all about storage space and maybe then I’ll nod my head in agreement with you. Right now though, the wire in my new undergarment is digging into me. So if you have any tips on how to wear it comfortably, I’d be interested in hearing them
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