This blog comes to you courtesy of 1 very happy mummy.
The Whirlwind has returned like Bear Grylls from his outdoor adventures on the Isle Of Wight. This time last week I felt like an emotional wreck as I delayed packing his rather large suitcase with the recommended clothing. Denial, denial, denial sprung to my mind, if I pack then it means hes really going, if I don't pack maybe some freak accident like the Isle Of Wight sinking will stop him going at all.
With heavy heart I faced the unfaceable he WAS going. As I stood with all the other mums watching our little pride and joys get on the coach it dawned on me that he was no longer a little boy but now a little man. I waved with such vigour that my arm ached for the whole week he was away, and as the coach started to pull away I joked with some of the other Mums that I was going to lay in front of it in the middle of the road. As I shouted"WHO IS WITH ME" and they all laughed,little did they know how serious I was.
The week to be fair went very quickly and even when I awoke on Wednesday to face the horror of my little man not being with me on his11th Birthday I held it together (mainly for The Husband who was an emotional mess). I was the strong one all day and kept a cheery (slightly hysterical) smile on my face.That was until we went out to dinner taking The Teenager with us to our favourite Chinese restaurant.
All was going well and after finishing a gorgeous meal washed down with a bottle of Pinot Grigio the unimaginable happened. A birthday cake with 11 candles came floating out of the kitchen to the sounds of Happy Birthday being sang by 6 Chinese waiters for the little boy on the next table, as if that wasn't bad enough the child had the same name as my AWOL little man. My smile left my face and huge hot tears fell onto my toffee banana melting the ice cream. The Husband and The Teenager looked on in horror as I sniffled into my napkin. The bill was soon bought to us as we explained that it wasn't the food but the broken heart of a slightly drunk mummy.
So here we are, a week later and he is home safe and sound but slightly smelly. This is where the title of the blog comes into play. We are all told as parents of children going on a residential trip to expect a scene straight from a movie involving swamp monsters once the suitcase is opened. Being the Domestic Goddess I like to think I am, I cleared my washing basket ready for the onslaught of smelly,damp,muddy and general nastiness. The scene was set, as bin bags were laid down on the kitchen floor which now looked like it had been prepared for a mafia hit.
We held our breath as the zip was carefully pulled back and then through slightly squinted eyes peeled the cover back to reveal.....................................a beautiful packed and folded suitcase of clothes, could my son of done this, were my days of telling him that the floor of his room was not his wardrobe over? NO NO and NO again, this was not the case. The packing had in fact been done by none other than ME!!!
Nothing had been touched, disturbed or even looked at. It all smelled Fairy fresh and the socks were still in a pack of 5. We called The Whirlwind into the kitchen to double check there hadn't been a laundry service on camp and that a bill wasn't going to plop onto the doormat. He then went into a long explanation about his ability to wear the same clothes all week through a simple system of rotation. The little drawstring bag he had flung on the side had all his dirty washing in it, this consisted of
1. Pants 1 pair (these were the pair he went in).
2. Socks 1 pair (dirt inside and out).
3. Waterproof Clothing 2 sets (these were muddy beyond belief).
4. Jeans 1 pair (Once blue now green).
5. T-shirt 1. (Don't even think its his).
Once questioned about his pants the tale of this blog began. For anyone wishing to write a survival manual on this subject please use the following tips.
Day 1. Wear pants correct way round all day
Day 2. Turn pants round the other way
Day 3. Turn pants inside out but right way round
Day 4. Still inside out, pouch to the rear.
Day 5. Go Back to day 1 and repeat process.
We looked on in disbelief as he very proudly relayed the story to us, I wanted to be cross, disgusted and generally grossed out but his little face was so full of pride and love for me that all I could do was laugh. Even if his claims that he "didn't want me to have too much washing" on his return were a fib I just didn't care.
The pants now known as The Wunderpants walked themselves into the washing machine on their own with an air of relief at being washed.
Has he learnt a valuable lesson in this act of grossness, or has he been taking lessons from Stig Of The Dump..............probably not but one things for sure, he really is growing up into a fully fledged man.
Thanks for reading
Lots of Love xxx