Why Mummy Swears by Gill Sims

Author:Gill Sims
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollinsPublishers
Published: 2018-05-21T16:00:00+00:00

Friday, 16 December

I have been meaning to organise a night out with Hannah and Sam and Katie for ages, and have never quite got around to it, and it is nearly Christmas and if we don’t do it NOW, then it will be January and everyone will be poor and depressed and on a diet/drying out/both, and so today I decided to just throw caution to the winds and after the hellishly long and soul-destroying Christmas Concert (perhaps my punishment for lying to work about being in the dentist was being tormented by endless tuneless singing until I longed for root-canal surgery as the less painful option), I cornered Sam and Katie in the playground after school.

‘Let’s go out tonight!’ I said brightly.

They both looked at me as if I had grown an extra head. ‘Tonight,’ they repeated blankly.

‘Yes, tonight!’ I chirped.

‘But Ellen, we haven’t planned it!’ said Katie in astonishment.

‘Where would we go?’ grumbled Sam, looking frightened.

‘The pub, of course, like we always do. We’d be being spontaneous! People do it all the time at work.’ I cried.

‘They are young people, though. And … and … the children?’ they whimpered. ‘Our precious moppets. What will become of them?’

‘I am a single father, remember, Ellen,’ pointed out Sam. ‘Robin is as much use as a marzipan dildo when it comes to actually stepping up to the mark and taking any responsibility for our children. Actually, he was about as much use as a marzipan dildo in bed too, if it comes to that,’ he added, with only a trace of bitterness.

‘It’s perfectly simple,’ I said. ‘Katie, Tim will be home tonight, won’t he, because you already told me that he was making dinner this evening, so he can make dinner AND put his daughters to bed, and Sam, Sophie and Toby can come to mine for a sleepover, and Simon can look after them. To be honest, it’s probably less work for him than his own children by themselves, as with Sophie and Toby there, the boys will just play mind-numbing computer games and the girls will do whatever it is eleven-year-old girls do that involves so much wittering like demented budgies, shrieking and glitter, rather than Peter and Jane just fighting like cat and dog like they will do with no distractions.’

‘But what will I wear?’ wailed Katie. ‘I haven’t planned. I’ll need to put on proper make-up and straighten my hair and I have not mentally prepared myself for that! I can’t just go out with no warning. What will I say to Tim?’

‘Has Tim never rung you to say he’s just popping out for a drink after work, or casually informed you that he’s going for a pint on a Saturday night?’ I demanded.

‘Well, yes, but –’

‘No buts! It’s exactly the same. Just text him, and tell him he’ll need to be home on time because you’re going out for a drink, because you are a grown-up and a real person and NOT JUST A MUMMY! CAN YOU DO THAT, KATIE? CAN I GET A HELL, YEAH?!’

‘Err, I suppose so.

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