The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 3007 by Angharad Copyright© 2016 Angharad

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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
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I was surprised when I heard from Stephanie the next morning to say she was on holiday in a week’s time for two weeks. I asked her again if she wanted to come with us because I’d have to book flights. At this stage booking for ten seats was probably going to be impossible, but amazingly it wasn’t. So I booked our flights out and the returns home. I also paid for luggage for everyone, you don’t want to know what the bill was I had to think twice before clicking pay.

Taking the afternoon off, I went home and checked everyone had a passport—they did except Hannah. We got the forms and the photos done and filled them in. I got someone from the university to countersign the photos—it’s a pain as you have to put your own passport number on them—he had to phone home to get his passport number. I emailed Sammi and asked if she could take the forms to the passport office in London because we needed it in a week’s time. She came back a little later and said she would. I’d give them to her tonight. If I’d asked Si, his secretary would have ended up doing it or delegating it down the line. At least with Sammi, she’s part of the family and could answer questions if they had any.

I sent Steph an email telling her I’d booked the flights and as we both had little ones to sort out, we’d take the lunch time flight. She got back to me saying she was quite excited and in answer to my query, she had Emily on her passport already. Mine all had their own ones, even Lizzie. Mind you, the rate children change, the photos are obsolete before the ink is dry. I wonder what will happen with those once Brexit actually happens because we’ve all got Euro passports, electronic things which purportedly can be read by computer. There isn’t much in the way of data in mine as far as I know, so it will be literature lite for the machine.

I expect the passports will go on for some time before we have to change them because if they were all cancelled, the passport office wouldn’t be able to cope with the demand. In some years it barely copes with the normal demand which rises at holiday times. I know, I should have thought of it before.

For the rest of this week I decided I would work mornings only then be off for two weeks. During the afternoons, I’d help the others decide what they wanted to take and make sure it was washed and ready to pack. I’d also be taking stuff for Lizzie, who’s no longer in nappies but we use the trainer pants at night, just in case. So far she’s been dry. She doesn’t quite understand what a hoddy is but she knows we’re having one. Cate did try to explain but it got lost in translation.

I think Cate is going to be quite clever too, her reception class seems very pleased with her. She can print her name and read simple text, Trish has promised to teach her calculus while we’re on holiday—only joking, it’s quantum mechanics she’s going to do.

Anyway, you can see why I need the minibus thing to take them to school and when I collect them I have to do either a roll call or count them. If I send any more children to the convent, I’m going to ask for bulk purchaser discounts.

I’m surprised we didn’t wear the washing machine out. Danielle was a boon, she ironed everything and it only cost me a new bikini for her. I’d made them all do lists of the things they wanted to take with them and I could then see where I had options for moving things around to fill cases. I take the bare minimum mainly tops and shorts, some trousers in case I get a chance to go bird watching and some shoes suitable for the task. I’ll take my Reebocks, they’ll do for walking and I’ll wear them on the plane. Otherwise it’s a pair of sandals, some smart shoes, one dress, one skirt a light waterproof jacket, then bras, pants and some socks. We have a washing machine there so it’s a question of wash and dry overnight to wear again.

Naturally, I’ll have my iPad and binoculars plus a bird book and wild flower identification guide. I’m not a botanist but I like to know what I’m looking at, especially if a butterfly lays eggs on it or it ends up in a photo. Must remember to take my camera. The girls usually use their phones except Livvie who like to photograph things with a camera—one with a view finder and goodness knows how many optical and electronic magnifications. I think it’s a Lumix or something like that.

Stephanie has said she doesn’t want to do anything special just sit around the pool watching the girls or reading. So maybe I should pack my telescope and tripod after all.

I cannot believe how much makeup and hair care stuff, Danielle wants to take with her. That doesn’t include tanning lotion or after sun cream, even though I told her we had it already at the house. It would be the wrong brand and her skin was sensitive to this that and the other—honestly, she has gone so girly, it’s unbelievable that she was ever a boy. I told them all it was expensive to use their mobiles away but there was a land line they could use to call home if it was necessary. I knew Danni would be on it half her holiday talking to John or whatever his name is, so when I said calling boy or girlfriends would not be allowed. We were only away for two weeks so if they couldn’t cope with that, the relationship was doomed.

We received a full on teenage tantrum—and she wasn’t going—she had human rights. I explained that they came with responsibilities and didn’t include the right to double my phone bills just to pass the time. She calmed down after throwing all her stuff over the bedroom floor. To keep in my apparent new role, as an ogress without the green skin, I informed her she could re-iron all the stuff she’d thrown about, after she’d picked it all up in the first place. She scowled and muttered under her breath but she did it. Having spent all one afternoon ironing the clothing she’d thrown about, I hoped she’d learn from the experience and not repeat it. But she’s a teenager, all hormones and attitude, she’s also turning into a very pretty girl with a super figure. Then, I think all my children are beautiful and I’m usually right, give or take a margin of error of 0.0000000000001. Of course I’m not perfect, just closer than anyone else and so modest with it.