Read Diary of a Mummy Misfit #1 for Free Online Page A

“Only yesterday she went out to buy a new pair of jeans and came back 500 quid lighter.  It’s an illness I tell you!”
     
    Fenella was quick to retort, “Yes my love, it is.  And you shouldn’t mock the afflicted so let’s go and sit in Libby’s lovely garden and we’ll say no more about it.”
     
    ‘The Lads’ returned triumphant from their shopping trip and all I can say is thank God I do the grocery shopping on a weekly basis.  Couldn’t believe the amount they’d spent for one meal.  The best cuts of meat, deli sausages and organic burgers.
     
    Realised this was maybe Ned’s way of implying to our new friends that we’re not as hard up as we look, so deliberately didn’t scream, “HOW MUCH?” when I saw the receipt.
     
    Mrs Sengupta stuck her head over the fence at about sixish to thank Fenella for the “leisure panties”.  Asked her over for a drink but she was keen to get back to Barry on her new dibeder player.  “He is looking so much more handsome with this high revolution my Pritesh has taught me about.  He could pop in to explain to you, Libbybeta.  Anytime you are needing a good man you know where to come.”
     
    Ned, Fenella and Josh managed to stifle their giggles as her head disappeared back over the fence.
     
    Fenella later on drunkenly added that she thought it was splendid that I had a “man in reserve”.  “I think it’s a super idea, guys, especially one as yummy as Pritesh.  You just never know when he might come in handy.”
     
    Ned and Josh looked slightly uncomfortable but it was interesting to know that Fenella thought he was rather tasty too, although I wouldn’t go so far as calling him my man in reserve - wonder if Fenella has one and, if so, who?  Made mental note to discuss with her at a later date.
     
    Had a great afternoon/evening/early hours.  So nice to finally see some sun and have time to relax with friends and enjoy it.  Think we might all be paying for it tomorrow though as it was about 2am when they finally trundled off with their sleeping kids in a cab after Fenella’s final rendition of ‘My Way.’
     
    Sunday 1 st June
     
    That was summer then!
     
    Or, as Ned quips, “I love the summer - it’s my favourite day of the year”.
     
    Only in England can you look forlornly out of the window at the teeming rain whilst cooling your sunburn from the previous day against the glass.
     
    Wasn’t much we could do with the day so watched ‘Toy Story 2’ for the umpteenth time and then had a late roast.
     
    Max decided he wanted to know the difference between the chickens at the farm and the one on his plate.
     
    Ned looked at me.  I looked at Ned.
     
    I knew he was waiting for me to get us out of the hole but words had deserted me.  Decided to stand my ground and leave it to him.  I fob off all the difficult questions on a daily basis - “Why is that man’s nose so big?”  “How did a baby get in that lady’s tummy?”  Felt it was time for Ned to take his turn.
     
    Wish I hadn’t.
     
    “Well, mate.  The thing is.  There is no difference.  Except this one is now dead, plucked and cooked, rather succulently I must say, by Mummy.”
     
    Don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on Max’s face.  It was as if I’d slaughtered the poor thing with my bare hands.  OK, he had to know the facts but, Ned, Ned, Ned … there are ways!
     
    “Mummy, how could you?”  Max cried.  “That poor chicken.  I won’t eat it. I won’t.  I’ll be sick.”
     
    Oh fantastic.  A vegetarian at four, all because he’s been traumatised by his insensitive father.  Must remember not to leave the birds and the bees conversation to him.
     
    Managed to talk Max round by explaining that if he didn’t eat meat he’d have to eat five times as many brussels sprouts and, on our exceptionally rare visits to McDonalds, he’d just have to eat the bap or a ‘nice’ salad - food of the devil to my son.
     
    Cheers Ned, that’s another