Waddling Dumplings (aka Bike) Part 569 by Angharad

Tom sulked at my questioning his self diagnosis, so the remainder of my stay was a bit tense. I kissed him good night, and left. As I drove home, I got cross with myself for arguing with him, but that’s what kids do with their parents.

When I got home, I found Simon asleep on the sofa with both girls, who were lying either side of him. They were both in their pyjamas and dressing gowns and an open book lay in his lap.

I coughed and Simon jumped, dropping the book and making a small bump as it hit the carpet. “Oh, you’re back?”

“Yes, why are these two not in their beds?”

“Um, I was reading to them and we all nodded off.”

“Must have been a riveting storyline,” I felt irritated and shared my feeling with Simon.

“It was okay, a bit formulaic, but Trish hadn’t noticed, so I guess it’s okay.”

“Mummy,” Trish said in between yawns. This woke up the other sleeping monster.

“Mummmmmeeeeeee,” which was followed by, “I need a wee,” and she staggered off to have one.

“Don’t pull the flush, Meems, I need one, too,” shouted the second emigrant.

“You not having one as well?” I asked Simon.

“Who stole your lollipop?” he asked me sharply.

“What do you mean?” I answered defensively.

“You know damn well what I mean, you come in here and tell me off then grumble at the kids, who’ve been waiting for you to come back, so they can say goodnight.”

“Oh, excuse me for breathing,” I said and went out to the kitchen.

“For God’s sake, Cathy, bloody grow up.” I heard the cloakroom door shut, “Come on, girls, up to bed, your mother is not in a very good mood, come on up to bed.”

“What’s the matter with Mummy?” I heard Trish’s voice.

“I don’t know, kiddo, but best you go to bed and leave her to cool off.”

“May I kiss her goodnight?”

“Not tonight, Trish, leave things until tomorrow, she’ll be okay by then.”

“Why is Mummy cwoss?”

“I dunno, Meems, come on, up to bed.”

“Alwight, Daddy.”

I felt the tears run down my face. I didn’t know what I felt, angry, sad, disgusted and ashamed plus probably several other emotions which were too confused to distinguish. What was happening to me? A few months ago, I was making films for Defra. Now, I was a quivering basket case.

Simon came into the kitchen, “I hope you’re happy now,” he snapped, grabbed a glass and a bottle of wine and left me to my thoughts. They were just chasing round and round in my head. So I took a glass and followed him into the lounge and poured myself a glass of wine. He said nothing, not even noting my presence. I took my glass and went up to my bedroom.

I undressed and changed into my nightdress, then went to see the girls, they were both asleep, I kissed each one and apologised to them. I know they didn’t hear me, but I felt a little better for doing it. Then I went to bed, locking my door after I shut it. Tonight, I wanted to be alone. I drank my wine, and half an hour later, I had cried myself to sleep.

The next morning, I woke finding myself alone in my bed, which puzzled me for a moment. Then I remembered the locked door. I got up and checked it, it was still locked. It was seven o’clock. I opened the door and checked the girls’ beds, they were empty.

I slipped downstairs and Simon was lying on the sofa with two little bodies alongside him. They were all fast asleep. I went into the kitchen and switched the kettle on, then dashed upstairs for a shower. I had some apologising to do. I dressed casually, and went back down. On the dining room table I placed two wrapped parcels. Then I made some tea and took Simon a cup.

“Simon, I have some tea for you.”

“Eh, what?”

“Good morning, handsome man, I have some tea for you.”

He stared at me with bleary eyes, not really taking in what was happening. Then a few seconds later he roused himself and after blinking, said, “Oh, yeah, ta.” He sat up and took the mug I proffered.

He sipped it and it began to wake him up. I could almost hear his brain ticking over as to why he was lying on the sofa with two children and I was dressed and holding a cup of tea for him. His eyes almost lit up as I suspect he remembered what happened last night. “Feeling better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Good, you can baby sit, I’m going for a shower.” He handed me back the empty mug and strolled off towards the stairs.

I put both mugs down and sat between the two girls. I kissed each one.

“Mummy,” said Trish, sleepily.

“Hello, darling,” I said kissing her again.

“Are you still cwoss wiv us?” asked Mima, yawning.

“Oh, Meems, I wasn’t cross with you or Trish, or Daddy; I was cross with myself. I’m so sorry I was so crabby last night, I guess I’m worried about Stella and baby Puddin’ and Gramps. It’s no excuse, but last night it all got too much for me.”

“You was a naughty Mummy,” scolded Mima.

I felt my eyes fill with tears, “I know, sweetheart, and I am sorry.” A tear ran down my face and plopped on my chest.

“You’ve made Mummy cry, you’re the naughty one, Mima,” scolded her sister.

“You the naughty one,” Mima shouted back at Trish and she burst into tears. A moment later Trish started crying as well, and all three of us were intertwined and weeping.

“I don’t believe it, what have you done to them now?” said Simon loudly as he came back down from his shower. “Why is everyone crying? What have you done?”

“I haven’t done anything. I just told them I love them.”

He gave me a look which suggested he might not entirely believe me, but his parting shot was, “Women, God preserve me from them.”

I wanted to shout at him, and also giggle at the absurdity of his request. In the end the latter won, and I had a fit of hysterical giggling, which infected the two youngsters and ended when Mima wet herself and burst into tears.

I stripped her off and cleaned up the sofa, then took her up for a bath. Trish followed and I dumped them both in the bath and waited until they had both really calmed down before pulling them out and drying them.

They had their breakfast while Simon was out washing the cars. I suspect he was using up his anger, instead of squabbling with me, he took it out on the dirt on the cars. I wondered if he would miss mine out, but he didn’t.

I was busy making up a bread mix and loading the machine with it, when I heard a squeal from the dining room. “Mummy, I have a parcel, may I open it?”

“I think that might be a good idea,” I called back.

“Mummy, can I open my pwesent?”

“Yes, Meems.”

“Oh look, Meems, a makeup set. Oh, thank you, Mummy.” Trish came dashing into the kitchen and hugged me. “Thank you so much, I always wanted one of these.”

“Well, now you have one. Just remember not to go silly with it.”

“I won’t, Mummy.”

Mima came hurtling out and hugged my legs, “I wuv it, Mummy, can I pway wiv it?”

“Of course you can, Meems.”

“Thank you, Mummy,” and she galloped back to the living room.

Maybe I should have bought one for Simon?