No, it wasn't me, fleeing the house with a badly-packed suitcase flung in my wake.
It was Shark, Squirrel and Tiger. They invited a friend to sleep the night on a pink fold-out bed.
Jo accepted the kind offer. She is same age eleven, schooled, and is a dead ringer for Shark in the way she twists her body and pats her tummy.
Indeed she looks so alike, out the corner of my eye, that for an hour I didn't realise she was actually here, in the house. I just assumed Shark was moving about a lot.
The sleepover went fine. I have no smashed up chandeliers, broken TV sets, or head wounds to report. Likewise, I avoided poisoning someone else's kid with salmonella, psychologically scarring her with my strange mama ways, or ending the evening at a hospital bed, apologising profusely for how our unfamiliar stairs turn sideways.
And I think the behaviour was normal. Chewing through packets of biscuits, lolling over the sofa, demanding drinks with ice and watching crap on a screen. Maybe that was me, because the kids all went to bed about 10.30, earlier than normal round here. The house was a lot quieter through the evening too, so maybe there is something in that theory: the one which says your house will be in balance if you have kids to occupy each other two by two, with no odd ones left out.
Well, it should all show, if anyone ever wondered, that home ed kids are totally normal. They're like all other kids. Showing the same weird instincts, irrational reasonings and bizarre desires for wanting sleepovers in the first place.
Unless of course we found the only kid in Hong Kong batty enough to want to spend their evening in a room full of triplets with a pile of chocolate biscuits and a heap of bad movies.
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1 comment:
See, now that is where you went wrong - you should have had quads lol!!
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