Not the easiest of weeks in all. Lovely Hub came back from his paintball weekend on Sunday afternoon, extremely knackered and a bit disappointed that he had to spend most of his energy lugging camping equipment from A to B instead of running around splatting people. It didn’t help that the weather was lousy, that he lost an airbed and had to sleep on the ground, or that bad weather at home meant there wasn’t an opportunity to have a go at pitching the new tent before they went away. I’m told that the draught cider was good though and so was the cocktail bar (? and I thought they were being ruff tuff boys running around with gun-things – sorry – MARKERS – not sitting there drinking cocktails all weekend). The zombie game was a bit boring as well, not a lot of variety in being a zombie really.
So after Hub and I falling prey to two sleepless nights, we were looking forward to a good night’s sleep. Unfortunately both Uni Boy and College Boy are particularly nocturnal at the moment. Classical music and the boom of Super Mario on an elaborate sound system comes up from Uni Boy’s room and war game playing chortle issues through the curtain from College Boy’s room – he had a door once but it died and we are waiting for some sign of maturity before we replace it.
At half-past three in the morning the air was rent with the sound of the two boys fighting over bandwidth. I ripped a muscle in my side jumping out of bed to separate them – last time they fought in the middle of the night, blood and bruises were involved (not mine).
At a quarter-past four in the morning an overwhelming smell of cooking permeated the whole house and I cursed College Boy for sneaking downstairs and making bacon super noodles with pepperami and tabasco sauce (a whole bottle) when I had to go to work in the morning.
At half-past five Lovely Hub had to leap out of bed to empty the overflowing water bucket – for some reason the water from the tank decided to speed up while we were trying to sleep – Sod’s Law
I got up at six o’clock and staggered downstairs in search of painkillers for my achy breaky side. Uni Boy was awake and it turned out that I had maligned College Boy and his super noodles, it was Uni Boy that had been cooking and despite being a hyper-intelligent megabeing it hadn’t occurred to him that leaving the kitchen door open whilst cooking would mean that the whole house stank of food.
I woke College Boy but he decided that his stomach was upset and he wasn’t going to get up. Some guys have all the luck.
It was a relief to get out of the house and slouch at my desk – until I realised that torn muscles and slouching don’t mix. Lovely Hub brought me more painkillers and I spent the rest of the day sitting in accordance with health and safety guidelines. It’s getting better now – slowly.
Loveliest Friend worked her magic fingers into Hub’s feet and came home happy again and fully reflexologised. Just as well because he had two day shifts – which he hates but I quite like because I get a lift into work and back. The boys took turns (what!) to empty the water bucket as they were the only ones in but whatever it was that was causing the problem then decided to make the water flow even faster.
I phoned Uni Boy from work to see if he’d emptied the bucket. He was a little terse. Hub texted Uni Boy on Wednesday morning from work to ask him to empty the bucket. This was Uni Boy’s response:
“Bucket looks fairly empty. It fills 50ml about every 4 min., and drops 130 times a minute, so flow rate is 750-800ml/hr. If that flow rate stays the same then the bucket shouldn’t need emptying until the evening at the earliest.”
College Boy would have texted “kk” or not even bothered to reply.
On Thursday night, Hub and I decided to tackle the water tank once and for all. Well, I lay on the bed and watched Hub tackle the water tank. He had to take some of the cupboard door frame off and stick his hand in the water tank to fiddle with the ball cock (ooh-er Missus!). His master stroke however, was climbing out through the bedroom window (who needs Spiderman), scaling the roof and discovering that there was something nasty bunging up the overflow pipe.
All good paintballers have an unbunging stick and Hub is no exception. Clinging onto the side of the chimney breast he shoved the stick up the overflow pipe and cured all our problems – well for now. The bucket is still underneath the Heath Robinson pipework but it has remained empty since Thursday night. Go Hub! We still need a new boiler but that will have to wait for a bit.
Hub was at work Friday night so a quiet night in. Uni Boy and I had another one of our considerably lop-sided conversations – nearly everything he says goes over my head. So far this week we have discussed ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ – surreal to be talking about grubby DomSub books with your 19yr old son – and whether or not the tot of whiskey I put in my morning porridge will still have an alcoholic content after being exposed to the microwave (he did calculations based on alcoholic content, amount of whiskey, temperature and length of time in the microwave – hic!.
When Hub came home we drove College Boy over to his mate’s in preparation for a day of shooting BBs in some disused army camp with a lot of other camouflaged pseudo-soldiers. It was rather nice driving back at midnight – just us – especially as College Boy gets particularly frantic when he is trying to get all his gear together. He doesn’t know that we’ve found his college report (he hid it in a pile of paper on the sofa). It wasn’t wonderful but then he’s had five bouts of tonsillitis in the past year – oh – and he’s a lazy git to boot.
Saw Hub off to paintball this morning – it isn’t raining and he’s sent me nice texts so I know he hasn’t been too badly crushed, mashed or covered in yellow paint. Uni Boy spent some time this afternoon practising his cocktail making skills – oh dear – do you really need me to test that Cosmopolitan for you? Oh well – alright then. The boy makes a fine cocktail. He went off to a friend’s house and for three hours this afternoon I’ve had the house to myself.
I fell asleep. Must have been that cocktail.
This time next week Uni Boy will be in Spain and I will be starting my one and only Open University residential unit in Nottingham. Apparently the booze is cheap (Spain and Nottingham Uni). I’m going to be a real student for a whole week and I am more than a little bit terrified.
Hey Ho! The Paintballer and the BB Boy have returned. The latter is totally shattered and can’t even raise the energy to go out for a meal with his best friend. He also has a red mark on his neck from a wayward BB. He has just staggered past me with a bottle of water, a duvet and heading for bed. Hub has had a lovely day shooting at people as well but also has a couple of war wounds which he’ll show me – laterz. Uni Boy is off out on the town again tonight with a couple of 500ml bottles filled with his cocktails – he has pre-drinking style that boy.
It hasn’t taken much to persuade Hub that tonight is a good night for a takeaway.
Just seen the war wounds – a bit tame – just on the arms but going to turn into lovely bruises over the next couple of days. So glad I don’t have dangerous hobbies – unless you count OU terror camp next week.
Now where did we put that takeaway menu?