Counting Down # 2

Tonight D is having a farewell party for his friends. This seems a little premature, given that we still have four weeks and five days to go, but D was adamant. His choice of party was a sleepover. While under normal circumstances, the prospect of seven thirteen-year-olds sleeping on the living room floor would have filled me with dread for weeks in advance (in fact, I think I would have refused point blank), I seem to have so much else going on in my head that I never gave the situation a second thought. Other that is than buying 4 litres of Pepsi and 24 bags of crisps in Morrisons last night.

The evening started innocently enough, the porch full of shoes, and the hall full of sleeping bags and rucksacks, the living room full of extremely large teenagers (was I that big when I was thirteen?) with everyone playing X-Box games. However, my suspicions were aroused when D came in to ask if he could have some money so he could go the the shop to buy me a Mother's Day present. Do I really look that stupid? In this age of Proof of ID, how do young teenagers manage to buy bottles of WKD?

I began to wish I had given a little more thought to this party, and abandoned the idea of retiring to my bedroom with a bottle of red wine and a DVD. I have decided instead that NOW is an excellent time to pack my Royal Doulton ladies and Wedgwood glassware that that I have so recklessly left in the living room.

Only 14 hours until they all go home.