RARRR!

In an act of remembrance for Jesus dying on the cross for our sins, we took the Kids over to Nanna and Grandad's and filled them up with chocolate. This, we felt, is what he would have wanted - two kids jacked off their tits on E numbers.

Both of them had been grouchy, partly due to the swathes of vomit that they had produced. Only the night before the Boy had once again hosed three walls and the entire floor with sick. This time we heard the flurry of sheets being thrown back and I made it into his room in time to narrowly avoid being hit in the face.

This had been after an abortive attempt to go out to the coast. We'd managed to secure the Girl's approval only after convincing her we would see some wild horses. Frustratingly, half way there the clutch discombobulated, leaving me in the awkward position of having the limp the car to the garage. Whilst the Girl took this mechanical failure quite personally (and started telling the car off) the Boy assisted me by giving me a running reminder that the car was broken. We did find a garage, however it was part of a showroom of VERY expensive cars.

"Dad, you should buy a new car. Get that one."

He said, and pointed at a Porsche Carrera 4. My refusal was met with with disdain.

So the next morning my feeble attempt to entertain them by shaving failed to impress.

"Are you going to cut yourself?"

"No."

"Cut yourself! Do it!"

"Thanks for the support, Girl."

"Dad, I'm bored."

"Well, Boy - I've put aftershave on. Does it smell nice?"

"It smells of beet root."

"Beet root? Do you think it smells of beet root, Girl."

"No."

"Thank you."

"It smells of ladders."

I'm not sure she was paying me a compliment. It was like when I was cleaning the kitchen windows a few summers ago and a six year old boy yelled; "Nice tits!" at me.

Still, once we got to Nanna and Grandad's they cheered up. Especially when Nanna and Auntie Sarah took them on an Easter egg hunt. Auntie Sarah, being new to the parenting lark handed the Boy a plastic bag to collect eggs in. Fortunately, the Boy is very sensible and so pointed out the danger of this by putting the bag over his head and saying "I can't breathe."

We're all very proud of him.

Later on as the Kids were chewing on the curtains and making noises like a jet engine starting up I got to hold New Baby Niece for a while, which was very lovely.

"She really reminds me of the Girl. I bet she'll turn out just like her."

Saying this turned out to be an error. Auntie Sarah went white.

"I'm not sure I could deal with that."

I sympathise. I'm not sure I can deal with it. The Wife tried to diffuse the situation by showing off the Girl's new counting skills.

"Can you count to ten?"

*Nodding* "Ten..."

"No... Count to ten."

"Six?"