Readers, we are in week 693 of the school summer holidays and we are all still alive. I attribute this amazing success to my brilliant invention of the Summer Holiday Imbibing Task (SHIT).
Basically, children are dicks. You know they’re dicks. I know they’re dicks. Being with them 24 hours a day, 7 days a week is enough to drive the staunchest teetotaller to a Long Island Iced Tea. We all know we’re going to end up drinking. This merely puts an educational framework around it. NB – if you find yourself starting this before 7 a.m., you have permission to double all quantities.
I am not even joking when I tell you that before I had children I was genuinely teetotal.
Let me give you an example of how SHIT points would work in the field.
Yesterday, I had just spent a significant amount of time making a roast dinner. We all sat down to tuck in. As soon as we sat down, YoungestGirl said, “Drink please!” TheBloke (TM) stood up and got her a glass of water.
“Would you like some water, EldestGirl?” he asked.
“No thank you, Daddy.” He sat down again. He took a forkful of food. “Actually Daddy, I would like some water, thank you.”
That would equate to two drinks (both for the children, and for us): one for the initial water request after we had sat down, and the second for impeccable dickhead timing with the second glass of water.
Two minutes later, I had a mouthful of roast potato.
YoungestGirl: Mummy. Mummy. Mummy. Mummy. Mummy.
TheBloke (TM): (seeing I have my mouth full) Yes YoungestGirl?
YoungestGirl: (laughing): You not Mummy. You Daddy. Mummy. Mummy. Mummy. Mummy. Mummy. Mummy.
Me: (finally just about able to talk without spluttering potato everywhere) Yes, YoungestGirl?
YoungestGirl: (scandalised) You not talk with mouth full Mummy!
Me: (finishes mouthful) Yes, YoungestGirl?
YoungestGirl: (genuinely perplexed) Why you talking to me? You be quiet. I trying to eat my food.
For that you get three drinks.
Full Summer Holiday Imbibing Task (SHIT) scores can be found here:
One drink
- Telling you they don’t need to go to the potty before releasing a stream of urine on your lap that would make a racehorse proud.
- Taking shoes off in car (extra drink if they put them on their hands, pretend to be a cat and then use their shoe-hands to stomp on their sister). NB If you are driving, wait until you have pulled onto the driveway before drinking. Top tip:
keep a hip flask in the car for this purpose.
- Saying they don’t want a banana until you have eaten the last banana, and then desperately wanting a banana more than life itself
- Dropping their ice cream on the pavement and screaming as if you’re abducting them for the next twenty minutes.
Two drinks
- Desperately begging for a certain meal for dinner, and then, after you have spent time crafting it, utterly refusing to eat it
- Refusing to wear a certain item of clothing as it’s too small/itchy/pink. Throwing a tantrum when you attempt to give the item of clothing away.
- Insisting you take them swimming, and then refusing to get in the pool. Extra drink if you manage to get them into the pool and then they refuse to get out of the pool.
Down the lot
- Throwing a tantrum in the toilets at Legoland because they don’t have a penis.
- Convincing you to spend the morning making home-made organic duck food with sunflower seeds grown in our own garden, so we can go and feed the ducks a healthy mix of non-poisonous food. Once at the duckpond, announce loudly, “I’m scared of ducks. I want to go home.”
- Finding your socks in the clean laundry, tucking them between their naked butt cheeks and shouting, “Look Mummy, I’m a squirrel.” This one might be specific to my children.
The only problem with the game is that I have never yet made it past midday without passing out. Although some would say that’s not necessarily a drawback. That and the fact my liver has applied for a transplant.