ChatterBank3 mins ago
Can a marriage survive a staycation?
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The screams, the cries, the bloodshed, yes my husband has two weeks to witness the terrifying reality that is a stay at home holiday with me and the kids. Will he survive? Will I end up sectioned? Who knows, we have two weeks to find out.
It is day 4 of our family staycation, my husband has sunk into a deep depression, the kids are high on mini milks and after four days of torment it has finally dawned on me THIS IS NOT A HOLIDAY. Things didn't really start out too well, after posting an itinerary of events on Facebook for my husband, featuring exciting activities such as Craft Time (shelf building) and quiz night (guess how much change the toddler has swallowed . . . results and prize giving could take a couple of days) and my personal favourite a planned excursion to the centre of our market town to witness street theatre (hooligans and drunks under the town hall shouting at the buses). The treasure hunt my two year old had planned (prize? The bath plug) just failed to raise a smile and what staycation would be complete without the obligatory trip into the attic to discover mouldy items from yesteryear and wonder in amazement at how we got by without them. Followed by a trip to the tip. Then games night, based loosely on ITV's The Cube I intended to challenge my husband to deconstruct then reconstruct my daughter's cot against the clock.
Sadly we are now occupying separate rooms, (I know he pays the Sky bill but does he not realise the importance of CBeebies in a toddler's life) and although I can't be sure I don't think he's talking to me, however I will check for vital signs later and his reaction time with a cold can of Fosters. Still my daughter's enjoying Discover Turbo what she won't know about a Sierra gear box won't be worth knowing.
How on earth do I survive another two weeks? Suggestions on a postcard (please include in the title "Wish you Were Here").
It is day 4 of our family staycation, my husband has sunk into a deep depression, the kids are high on mini milks and after four days of torment it has finally dawned on me THIS IS NOT A HOLIDAY. Things didn't really start out too well, after posting an itinerary of events on Facebook for my husband, featuring exciting activities such as Craft Time (shelf building) and quiz night (guess how much change the toddler has swallowed . . . results and prize giving could take a couple of days) and my personal favourite a planned excursion to the centre of our market town to witness street theatre (hooligans and drunks under the town hall shouting at the buses). The treasure hunt my two year old had planned (prize? The bath plug) just failed to raise a smile and what staycation would be complete without the obligatory trip into the attic to discover mouldy items from yesteryear and wonder in amazement at how we got by without them. Followed by a trip to the tip. Then games night, based loosely on ITV's The Cube I intended to challenge my husband to deconstruct then reconstruct my daughter's cot against the clock.
Sadly we are now occupying separate rooms, (I know he pays the Sky bill but does he not realise the importance of CBeebies in a toddler's life) and although I can't be sure I don't think he's talking to me, however I will check for vital signs later and his reaction time with a cold can of Fosters. Still my daughter's enjoying Discover Turbo what she won't know about a Sierra gear box won't be worth knowing.
How on earth do I survive another two weeks? Suggestions on a postcard (please include in the title "Wish you Were Here").
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For more on marking an answer as the "Best Answer", please visit our FAQ.Mr Boo took a forced day off work yesterday (lobg story, can't be bothered to explain why, plus its boring) and by lunchtime I wanted to kill him. It started off badly when I put the God that is My kyle on the box and he said "Oh God, do we have to watch this?" My answer of "Yes, bugger off, you're not normally here" didn't go down well.
My hopes and prayers go with you Mrs Pope in what will be a trying time ahead :-(
My hopes and prayers go with you Mrs Pope in what will be a trying time ahead :-(
hahahaha reading your story has brought a smile to my face and brings back memories of when my son was off school. We had a few staycations - the days out to the seaside always ended in tears (mostly mine). I remember when Grandad bought a rubber dinghy, we all went down to the coast - it started off well, Grandad and 7 yrd old Son in boat, me holding rope attached to boat, Mr. Towie had gone to fetch tea, cakes and ice cream from the kiosk.
I got distracted, let go of the rope, the boat drifted out despite Grandad rowing like mad. There were shouts of 'abandon ship' and my Son dived over the side, leaving Grandad. I swam out and managed to retrive the rope. I said to Grandad, why didn't you dive over the side and let it go - he said 'are you insane, this cost me £14.99 and the oars were extra'.
We had an above ground swimming pool erected in our garden, the kids loved it, yes I only have one Son, but all the neighbours loved it aswell.
It was money well spent.....
I got distracted, let go of the rope, the boat drifted out despite Grandad rowing like mad. There were shouts of 'abandon ship' and my Son dived over the side, leaving Grandad. I swam out and managed to retrive the rope. I said to Grandad, why didn't you dive over the side and let it go - he said 'are you insane, this cost me £14.99 and the oars were extra'.
We had an above ground swimming pool erected in our garden, the kids loved it, yes I only have one Son, but all the neighbours loved it aswell.
It was money well spent.....
Ah. Those were the days! When daughter number one said, "You got me the wrong flavour ice cream!" and tried to swap with number two who was having none of it and she tried to give number three's ice cream to number one who didn't want that one and number three started screaming and,,,,,,,and well, we are now retired and don't have that problem.
However granddaughters also have their own ideas about things!
But that's another story.
However granddaughters also have their own ideas about things!
But that's another story.
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