Friday, 30 August 2013

How I miss my boys.....

Driving away from dropping the boys off at their annual 'Band of Brothers' weekend, I smiled to myself as I heard Max and Jonah, already up a tree, resounding a 'Tarzan' call into the woods.  They are going to have a weekend to fill up their memory tanks as they are allowed to eat Yorkie bars for breakfast, climb trees, play football with their mates and sit around the campfire.  Of course, I am not supposed to know about what goes on at Band of Brothers, so keep that information to yourself.  Anticipated with excitement each year, it is one of those special times which provides great memories and builds fantastic relationships.

The trouble is, I am left all alone for the weekend. 

Mourning their departure, I will, of course, spend the whole time counting down the hours and minutes until their return. 

How will I be able to wake up in the morning without a little voice asking me to show him which films are on Sky Movies (ok, don't tell anyone that bit either - yes, that IS how I keep Jonah quiet in the mornings)?

What will I do in the evenings without bedtime arguments and re-runs of 'River Monsters'?

I should think the withdrawal symptoms of the skate park will be pretty nasty.  Will I seriously be able to survive a whole weekend without a visit?  Not even once?

Surely there will be someone else who can provide me with a running commentary on the different methods of fishing.

How will my viewing of the television be complete without arguments over who is sitting on which seat?

And will I, dare I say it, be able to actually have a whole shower without someone interrupting to tell me about the intricacies of their injury inflicted by a brother?

Is it even possible that I might be able to enter the bathroom without having to check the floor before stepping inside?

I'm not sure I will be able to cope with the responsibility of having the remote control to myself all weekend.  Are there really other programmes out there?

No, this weekend is going to be dreadful for me.  I think I shall curl up in a ball and await their return, with tissues at hand for the occasional weeping.  After all, I have nothing better to do.

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