Saturday, 8 May 2010

A fire, a mars bar, and a punch up.

To the British Library for the Magnificent Maps exhibition. Go. It is fantastic for pervynerdies like me who want our kicks paper based, vellum rich, decorative gilded, pretty pictured, tiny lettered and splashing with sea monsters. Niche market, I know, but it's free.

Shark, Squirrel and Tiger gave it 9 out of 10, promised they would draw maps of the garden so I can call it an education, and asked to come back. Then the fire alarm went off.

We do not have a good strike rate with those. I now add it to my list which includes the hairdressers, the London Aquarium, the gym, the Royal Institution and the posh hotel somewhere up north which was my fault.

Anyway, fire alarms can be very sociable events, can't they? All the sad looking people outside. I bet marriages have been made and divorces begun in these foot shuffling minutes wondering if we are going to be burned to death, blown up, or let back into the shop. Lucky for us we meet up with chums outside, decide to abandon maps altogether, and go off to drink coffee before catching the train home.

At the station, there is a bit of a disaster when Dig appears waving one of these.

He says it is all my fault and I haven't brought his children up properly. He says they have never eaten a Mars Bar. I very much doubt that actually, but they know how to play one parent off against another and they all look intently at the said dog chocolate wrapped in plastic and claim daddy is right. They have never ever, ever, ever seen one in their lives ever before. Honestly.

Ha! Well I've got a flanking manoeuvre to outwit you little grits because daddy need not go back into chocolate shop of hell and buy two more because in my handbag is a KNIFE. I brandish it here for all the security guards in England to see and they can come and arrest me right now this instant.

I am riding on the edge of danger. I am a woman with a killer instinct. I have an intuitive sense that I would need to slice up a Mars Bar into equal bits on a station platform.

Lucky I nicked that wood picnic knife from Woburn.

Now there is just the punch up to go, which, after the sniff of Mars Bar, is enough to set things off nicely on the way home. There is a bit of finger pointing and accusatory You looking at me? before the pushing, shoving, lapel grabbing and slapping begins. You'll notice on the crowded train that no-one sits next to the gritlets. Not even us.

Fortunately the punch up is good natured and there are no metal bars, rocks, puffins or spears to launch. Further, we have not been burned to death, arrested for carrying knives, begun a bitter divorce, vomited with brown lard overload, or informed that as all the trains are cancelled, the taxi fare home is £160.

All things considered, a very successful day out. With maps.


sharon said...

A Mars a day helps you work, rest and play! Would the day have been better or worse had the Mars been produced earlier? Never buy them here Grit, they are even more sugar loaded.

Belgravia wife - sort of said...

We went to the Map Exhibition and all loved it, it was fabulous but my we chose the wrong day - it was a very sedate visit.

Strangely I have issues with fire alarms and pyromania in general. The only ever time I went to the gym and deposited my eight month old baby in the creche - it took me that long to build up my nerve, the firm alarm went off so I got him out of there faster than lightning. I saw it as a sign from the Gods and have rarely been back.

There was also the linen napkin incident in the swish place in Monte Carlo but that's another conversation.

Fantastic post Grit - my sons think your Gritlets have the most amazing names. Thanks xx

Belgravia wife - sort of said...

Oh ps. That doesn't look like a punch up to me - they're 'establishing boundaries...'xxx

Rachel M. said...

Great to see you got a day out with the family!!!

Grit said...

mars bars are truly disgusting, sharon. i think i have done pretty well to keep the gritlets away from them. i run an exchange system, whereby i take cheap chocolate from the children and give them a good exchange in superior 70%. in this way i hope to teach taste not mindless consumption. it mostly works. i am a smug git, eh?

hi belgravia wife! i tried our gym creche only once. i was horrible, and i hated every second of the treadmill. i can only imagine how despairing it would be to have the fire bell going off as well. and that is good - they are indeed establishing boundaries!

hi rachel! it's always easier when dig is around to child manage, because then i snatch a bit of one to one time with a child. sometimes it's even one of mine.

Kelly said...

Jealous, jealous, jealous of mean Grit, flaunting access to British Museum to us poor deprived colonists of new world. Absolutely not fair.

Grit said...

But Kelly! Canada has MOOSE. Lovely MOOSE. We have no moose. And US has OBAMA. We have Gordon Brown. And Ed Balls.

Which looks better now, eh?

Kelly said...

We also have Obama's favorite chocolate, which is very good stuff. OK, I feel better now.