Question: is there such a thing as a quiet weekend these days? Answer: no, not if you live in our house. Mother and Father had left at 7am - ostensibly to miss the traffic en route to their craft fayre extravaganza in Crawley. They were showcasing their unique brand of life sized plaster models of cats - Father's a whizz with a brush and some Humbrol enamel paint!
I thought I'd have a lie in until about 8:15am but this was rudely cut short when I heard shouting, hollering and car doors slamming eminating from next door's driveway - it was their version of family Sunday once more. Now, from reading this blog you'll be aware that I'm not a person to judge my fellow man but the Macpherson-Webb family (MW for short) aren't really 'our' kind of peeople.
Mr MW favours wearing vests all year round and has a fantastic array of tattoos adorning his torso and lower legs (I haven't seen any other parts of his body exposed so he may be further inked - who knows?) Mrs MW (if you can call her that, I believe the term used to be common law) likes wearing sportswear purchased from the local market teamed with scuffed plastic stilletto heels. Both partners are loud, foul mouthed and smoke at least 40 cigarettes per day and consume a great deal of alcohol (I've checked their recycling box for evidence.) They have four children named: Beffany (sic - yes that is the correct spelling), Tyrowne, Saffire and Tweezle who range in age from 15 down to 3 and have unique characteristics all of their own.
By 10am four more cars were parked haphazardly along the road and their 'get together' was in full swing. My walls reverberated with the sounds of their 60 inch plasma TV's speakers belting out their games console kareoke game. Honestly, the MW version of 'The Greatest Love of All' is one performance which is somewhat unforgettable - for all the wrong reasons!
At 3pm Mrs MW served up her 'all day breakfast special' which she'd cooked on the instant BBQ to her hungry hoard. Smoke billowed out of the filthy contraption and I was forced to bring the cat in, lest her fur should smell of carbonated pig fat.
I am writing this now at 5:30pm having put up with the thumping and banging which has been occuring all day. I would surmise that Mr and Mrs MW's superking bed is now rather less springy than it once was because of the sheer amount of bouncing which has occured on it today. In some ways this is a blessing - I had been wanting to complain about their disgusting carry on during last year's power cuts - it makes me sick to the stomach!
My 40th birthday looms even closer - Thursday's the big day....
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