This little boy is trouble!
Thursday nights in Cranbrook the Sports Club does Fish and Chips. Its the only place in town to eat apart from the pub which is overpriced and underspiced so we go every week if hubby isn’t working. Mr Point Five says its my “night off”  – isn’t he chivalrous??!?
Now some may ask why I don’t just go with the boys, even if Hubby is working and to that I say 
ARE YOU FREAKING CRAZY???
Do you not remember THIS from early this year???
Yeah well, he is still that same boy – TROUBLE – and I wouldnt go sans hubby if you paid me – not even a MILLION dollars. Well, maybe a million……..
So, Thursday night just gone, we go down to the club arriving about 5.30pm (the boys have had dinner already in case you were wondering in the duration of this saga). Its raining so we have driven (we live about 200m from the front door – shhhh) and the boys want to play outside. I say No, its raining and its cold. G Man agrees and takes off to the playroom. Master J heads for the nearest exit. Hubby is getting drinks so I high tail it out into the rain and bring Master J in, have stern words and escort him to the playroom.
We sit down with our drink, one eye on the playroom door and the other trying to keep eye contact with the oldies we are chatting to. We are usually the youngest by a full generation most weeks we go there, but tonight is an exception as there is a 60th Birthday being celebrated and the place is packed. There are kids galore and they are everywhere – it is hard to keep track of our two and I am ruing the decision not to let G Man wear his Superman Costume so I could spot him better. But its not G Man I am worried about – he is the GOOD CHILD. I see a flash of red outside and realise it is Master J.  At the same time a group of sweet 10 year olds who I had given my turkish delight chocolate cake to last week spot him as well, and they are off out the door and bring him in, hands under his armpits, squealing in protest. They deposit him at my feet and he is up in an instant, back out the door. I race out after him and in the cover of darkness, I give him a good smack on his well padded bum and take him back to the toyroom. 
I sit back and take a second sip of my champers.
Mr Point Fives mobile rings – you know the one that only his boss has the number to? Yeah – that one. He has to go to work and leaves immediately with a swift kiss and a Dont Wait Up.
This is when it gets good. You know how I said I would never go to the Club with the boys sans husband?
Out of the corner of my eye I spy Master J at the notice board, methodically taking down all the fixtures to the Bowls events for the rest of the year, scrunching them up and posting them under the kitchen door. Christ!!  Right we are going home. The kitchen hasn’t opened yet so I stick my head around the corner and ask for two fish and chips to go ASAP (smiling through gritted teeth, Master J struggling under one arm). I smell that familiar scent and I grab my handbag which has the bare necessities in it but thankfully a spare nappy and a few wipes and we go change his bum on the cough in the ladies loo. The bigger girls are playing hide and seek with G Man, and whilst I am surprised he is hiding in one of the stalls, I am grateful that he is still in the building. I leave Master J in the toyroom with his brother and go check on dinner.
5 minutes. Right. 
I turn to see Master J outside, letting himself back in and heading to the toyroom – I pretend I didn’t see anything. Nope. Not a thing.
I am at the kitchen paying for our meals and find Master J has followed me to the kitchen and is quietly snaffling the beetroot out of the bowl on the salad bar – now that is something you simply cannot deny, the vibrant maroon mouth and cheeks are a dead giveaway. I have used all the wipes on his bum so to add insult to injury I pinch some serviettes as well and clean up the evidence as well as I can. That stuff stains! Our dinner is ready (my salad bar is sans beetroot out of sheer guilt) so I get it and head to our table to gather the boys things and more importantly, my bottle of champagne  which I have has two sips of so far.  Master J is not with me.
 He is at the cake table eyeing off the 60th Birthday Cake – I RUN!!!! I come to within a bee’s dick of  total disaster and haul him away and with the help of a lovely friend I get the two boys, two fish and chips, one salad, my open bottle of champers and my dignity (I’m kidding about the dignity, I lost that about half an hour ago) and get to the car.
We drive the 200 metres home. I do not have enough arms so I leave the dinner in the car – who am I kidding? I wont get to eat it til the kids are in bed anyways. We pile in and I get the bath running. Throw both boys in the bath and go out to the car to get the fish and chips. Master J is calling for me and I go in to find he has exited the bath and has pee-ed on the bath mat. Excellent. Get him dried, in a nappy and get G Man out and dried. Throw bath mat in wash before the dog smells it and thinks the bathroom is an acceptable place to pee when it is raining outside. Normally the boys have 45 mins or so wind down time after their bath with a movie but Thursday nights are different as we are already over an hour behind our normal routine, so I throw them in their jim-jams and get them into the bathroom for teeth cleaning.
G Man gets plopped in front of The Muppet Babies (his latest fixation) and Master J then gets hustled into his room to chose bedtime stories. With my stomach grumbling, I race through two Chuggington books with a speed that Koko would be envious of. A cuddle, half a lullaby and a kiss and Master J is in bed.
I nuke my fish and chips and scoff it down with a glass of champers, whilst updating my facebook status.
G Man gets a cuddle and kiss and is tucked into bed too.
It is 8pm – I am ROOTED and my sanity has well left the building.

I polish off the rest of the bottle watching Grey’s Anatomy and am in bed by 9pm.
What a mind fart of a night.
Never again will I go to the club sans hubby. 
If he gets called to work, he can drop me and the boys home on the way. I don’t care if it IS an emergency.
Actually, thinking on it, I’m not sure we will be welcome back at the club.
Hmmmmm – may have to give them a call next  week.
TROUBLE with a capital “J”
Lucky he is gorgeous and has the smile of an angel.