Hide Your Kids. Hide your wife!

29-03-2014 Saturday
30-03-2014 Sunday

It’s half past two in the morning and we’re just about to finish cleaning up the mess. I asked Mum if I could go to bed as I was deadbeat. I am deadbeat, but I just wanted to write one or two words about the party while it’s still fresh in my memory. Although I don’t approve of binge drinking, I think some people drank to little to be able to forget about the discomforting things they did. And here I am eternalizing these moments on paper, aren’t I the best!?
Let’s start with these embarrassing moments just to get that out of the way. Grandma had brought her own liquor, because we never buy her the ‘good stuff’. Mum made her promise she wouldn’t drink before dinner, Grandma made up for that by drinking half of the bottle after the last bite she took. Before too long she was doing a striptease on the kitchen table. But only after Jonesy had announced his divorce. I think it all had some sort of causal relationship, but I’m not sure. I got that idea when I heard Dad shout out,’ Finally, we’re getting rid of that stuck-up (bad word).’ I believe this is where Nora – the ex-wife to be – stole Grandma’s whisky bottle and drank the other half.
I feel kind of sorry for their daughters: Kaylee and Lucy. Though we don’t have a lot in common and we hardly ever speak to each other, I wonder whom they are going to live with. If their mum is going to be an alcoholic it might not be the best of choices to go and live with her. They are too young to move out – they are about my age – and their dad does not know how to raise these kids. Last year he let them go to school in their pyjamas, because he thought it was what kids wore nowadays.
Besides that Kaylee and Lucy are spoiled rotten. They get almost everything they want and often get it right away. I bet that after the divorce they get everything double. They always brag about all that they have and poke fun at people who don’t dress according to the latest fashion and who don’t watch the series they are watching. Obviously the shows they watch are cool and everything else is just ‘rubbish’. It’s a pity that they don’t show any sign of intelligence. I believe it took them three years to learn to breathe.
Luckily Evelyn didn’t have to witness all this. Evelyn had to be home before dinner, so she was saved from embarrassment. I’m not going to tell her anything about it. I think I can get away with leaving out those moments and I don’t think anybody in my family will bring it up soon. The only weird thing I had to explain was why Grandma kept calling me Ivor (I do hope you still remember). Evelyn thought it was quite funny and she found it a nice nickname. I just don’t hope she’s going to call me that; I’m not a cat, I’m a ferocious lion, hear me roar!
Now for the best part. This is Arthur doing the dance of joy and singing, quite out of tune,’ I got a guitar!’ I don’t know how Mum and Dad did it, but they bought me a guitar and kept it a secret for weeks. I’m so happy I could cry. I’m not going to, because I’m a lion. Instead I’ll just roar a little. Roar.

Okay, so I had written thus far when I fell asleep last night. It is Sunday now. I woke up at half past eleven and stayed in bed till half past twelve. That’s when I felt it was really time to have a shower and start my day. Mum and Grandma had already been to church, but Mum refused to tell me anything about it. I might call Grandma to ask her about what happened. Talking about Grandma. She gave me two tickets to the London Underground yesterday and said she was wondering why I wanted these for my birthday. ‘London Dungeon, Grandma! The Dungeons!’ I’ll try again next year.
Evelyn was really sweet; she had even bought a present for me. She gave me a T-shirt with a drawing on it that she had made. In the picture you see me thinking of Evelyn who’s thinking of me. And she had the original framed with her signature on it and all. I asked her to sign the shirt, too, just in case she might become famous or something. I think I’m going to hang them both on my wall. I don’t want to wear the shirt out, plus, I think wearing it might draw too much attention to us at school and we don’t really like to be in the spotlights.
I’m going to work on my guitar skills today. I tried it a little yesterday, but it’s really hard. My other relatives gave me all sorts of stuff to go with the guitar: some books with guitar lessons, strings, plectrums, tuner, etc. I feel like a rock star already. Maybe I should think of a good stage name or a band name. Crud, I see Unice coming … Hide your kids, hide your wife, she’s gonna find you! Run! Bye, see me tomorrow. 


2 thoughts on “Hide Your Kids. Hide your wife!

  1. Oh, how I wish I was there! Whiskey + Grandma = striptease!!! That’s some party!

    Bless her with her London Underground/Dungeon confusion. At least you can get there. Maybe busk outside and earn the entrance fee?

    I wouldn’t ask Grandma to bail you out of prison should the occasion ever arise. She’d probably end up wandering around King’s Cross rather than rather than making it to the police station.

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