Wobbling Doorknobs (aka Bike) Part 570 by Angharad

The makeup kits seemed to be a success, as there were lots of giggles coming from the dining room. I’d probably have to put both kids in the washing machine to get it all off, but if they were happy…

I watched Simon from the window. As he seemed to be finishing the last car–the Mondeo–I switched on the kettle and made him some coffee. He seemed quite grateful for it when he walked in.

“What are they giggling about?” he asked, nodding towards the dining room.

“They’re playing.”

“Duh! I know that, what’s making them giggle like drunken banshees?”

“Why don’t we go and look?”

“They haven’t got the telly in pieces again have they?”

“Simon, it’s boys who take things apart to see how they worked.”

“Don’t you mean work?”

“No because they don’t usually do so after the dissection.”

“Sometimes. I had an old radio I took apart and put back together, it still worked, so did the clock I played with.”

“I was only allowed to do it under supervision, so it always worked.”

“Yeah, but you’re a girl, so that’s expected.”

“I did go beyond it a bit with bicycles, changing bearings and things.”

“Ah, there you have me, I can change a tyre or fix a puncture.”

“So why do you leave it to me, to do?”

“Because you’re quicker.”

“Hmmm,” we walked into the dining room half expecting to see a couple of children looking like an explosion in a paint factory. Instead they were relatively restrained. Trish seemed to be doing most of the painting and Mima, the giggling.

“My goodness, two beauties indeed, Cathy, you didn’t say your sisters were here with you.” Simon winked.

“No, I momentarily forgot. May I introduce you to Lady Patricia and Lady Jemima.”

Simon bent down to shake hands and Trish said, “How do you do,” as if she’d been watching My Fair Lady.

Mima just giggled, then grabbed Simon’s legs and hugged him, “Daddy,” she squealed and got the makeup stuff all over his trousers. Still, they said it was washable.

The phone rang and I went to answer it. “Hello?”

“Hello, Cathy, are ye in a better mood?”

“Never mind me, how are you?”

“Seems like my indigestion is better.”

“Oh that’s good, when can you come home?”

“Anytime.”

“What like, now?”

“Aye, indeed.”

“I’ll come and get you.”

“I can get a cab.”

“Indeed you won’t. I’ll be there in half an hour, go and have a cuppa.”

He rang off and I dashed to get my jacket. “I’m going to get Gramps from hospital, who wants to come?”

I had two volunteers, who were not best pleased when I wiped their faces before we went. “You can do it again when we get back, after all most of us have to practice it for years to get it right.”

“Did you practice it, then, Mummy?” asked Trish

“It might not look like it, but yes, I did.”

“Your makeup always looks nice, will you show me what to do?”

“After lunch.”

“Wiww you show me, too?”

“Of course I will, Meems. I’ll show you both.” When I thought about it, for what I’d spent on the toy makeup, I could have bought a proper makeup set, but part of me doesn’t want to encourage them too much. Trish isn’t five yet, and Meems is only three. I had to wait until I was away from home before I could play with makeup–when I thought about some of those practices, they were pretty dire, dire being the operative word.

I had a sudden flash back to one memory, when I had used a reddish pink lipstick which stained my lips and I had exams the next day. I walked into college sucking an ice lolly, so when someone commented on my pink lips, another girl said, “He was sucking one of those ice lolly things,” and no more was said about it. I bought another lipstick on the way home, a lighter shade.

I strapped the girls into their car seats and drove off to the hospital. Tom was actually waiting for us at the entrance to the car parks, which meant I didn’t have to fuss with releasing the kids and then strapping them back in.

I kissed him on the cheek, “You look well,” I said.

“You look tired, my girl.”

“I’m okay, I slept well last night.”

“You wocked you doow, wast night.”

“You did what?” asked Tom.

“I locked my door.”

“Why? Squabble with Simon?”

“Something like that.”

“You were in a funny mood, sure enough last night.”

“Gee thanks,” I frowned, “Why not remind me?”

“I’m sorry, Cathy, but ye squabbled with me before ye left.”

“I think it was six of one and half a dozen of the other.”

“Aye mebbe, but then if that was true, would ye hae squabbled with Simon.”

“Yes, he was supposed to put these two to bed, they were still up when I got in.”

“Och, they were probably waitin’ to see ye.”

“Oh that’s right side with Simon, bloody men always stick together.”

“Mummy and Gramps, please don’t fight, there are children present,” said a little voice from the back seat. Tom and I looked at each other and sniggered. Sometimes the things she says are priceless. Anyway it broke the spell and Tom and I dropped the subject and resumed normal relations.

On the way home, I popped into Argos again and bought a proper makeup set. I would lock this up when I wasn’t available to show them how to use it. I’d nipped in a paper-shop first and got Tom a Guardian, and Trish and Mima a comic each. They didn’t know what I’d bought, which I shut in the boot. I’d also got Simon a new penknife, for washing my car and as a peace offering.

We got home with just enough time to sneak my shopping upstairs and dash down before the bread machine peeped. I made some salad which we ate with cheese and fresh bread–it was still warm and Simon managed half the loaf before I caught his eye and suggested he’d had enough. He sighed, muttered something and sipped his water.

After washing up and tidying up the kitchen, I handed Simon his present. He was very pleased with it, he’d lost his Swiss Army penknife, a month or so ago. He’d had it since he was at school, so was a bit upset at the loss. I wasn’t sure if it was the same type, but he was so pleased it didn’t matter. I think it had one of those gadgets for getting boy scouts out of horses hooves, so that could be useful.

I was then pestered by the girls to play makeup with them. We used their toy kits. They did have the advantage of being washable, that was about the only one. The lip colours hardly showed at all, the eye makeup was pathetic and the mascara like water. I was tempted to get the new one I’d just bought, but for now, I’d wouldn’t encourage them, that could wait for a rainy day–it wasn’t washable.