The glass of wine just sat there on the kitchen bench. It was taunting me. It was looking all delicious-like and winking at me. It was yelling: “DRINK ME I’M ALL DELICIOUS-LIKE”.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t hear it teasing me because my children were yelling even louder than the just poured, full bodied Barossa Shiraz. I’d poured it, under the impression that my motherly duties for the night had neared an end. My kids were in pajamas, the tv in their room was on, the lights dimmed and the warning to “not leave the bedroom” had been issued.
I’d poured that glass of wine and ducked out of the room to put on my tracksuit pants and remove my bra. I’d popped some day-old curry in the microwave. I’d put some bad reality television show about WAGs and their inability to speak a sentence without mentioning the phrase: “It’s always important to go out wearing your best fake boobs”, on the telly. I was on, what parents around the world call, the home stretch.
And then it happened. Miss H needed a nappy change. And then promptly, did another poo. She likes a clean nappy to shit in. So, then Miss H needed another nappy change. Miss E needed someone to wipe her bum. Oh, and she also needed “someone” to remove the Pet Shop toy she’d dropped in the toilet bowl. It was sitting proudly on a nugget. It was also taunting me. It was saying: “You will never get to drink that wine”. Then Miss L decided, while I was running through the house with said stinky Pet Shop toy, that she was STARVING and needing something to eat. I offered her a poo sandwich. She was not interested and her head started spinning around like the exorcist. This of course, meant the others also needed something to eat. Then the phone rang, I couldn’t hear what the annoying sales person was saying. All I could hear was: “Would you like to upgrade to our GLASS OF WINE package?”. No. I just want to sit on the couch by myself, drinking my glass of wine and eating my curry.
It was twenty minutes until I got to do that. Twenty minutes that I was taunted by that glass of wine. Actually I lie. It was 21 minutes, because as soon as I sat down and reached for my wine, all three children came running in like tiny vultures swarming around me. I think it was at that moment I displayed my best A1 Mum behaviour and yelled: “For fucks sake GO TO BED. FUUUUUCCKKK.”
Surprisingly, they did. And finally I got to down that wine. And it was delicious. So was the second glass and the third. I like to have one for each child.
Does your wine or cup of tea, reheated over and over, ever taunt you or is it just me who thinks her refreshments talk to her?