Botched Driving Test and the Bambino's First Birthday
It's been a pretty crazy week. The bambino turned one, yay!...and I failed my driving test this morning - Oh.F*ck....
F*ckity, f*ckity, f*ck, f*ck, f*ck, ffffffffff*******CCCCCCCKKKKK! The funny thing is that it was mostly minor stuff that was totally down to nerves like raising the clutch too quickly when I was moving away. You'd think he'd have let me off! Instead he of the the big yellow reflective waistcoat in the passenger seat claimed me doing that to the clutch hurt his neck! Honestly, like bleedin' male flu! Drama!
So I had a big strop on me this morning after the test where I was like "F*ck it, I'm not doing the shaggin test again...I don't need to drive. Sure, the tube and the train have been fine so far....". The instructor was laughing and he kept telling me that the majority of people fail first time. Is that supposed to make me feel better? Failure by numbers?
Then I called up the boyf in Germany who I think thought I was taking the piss about failing until he could hear the tell tale sign of 'almost' tears. "Oh don't worry about it. Most people fail first time. Just ask..." and then he reeled off a long list of names.
I got home and my stepdad who has been visiting for the past few days opened the door excitedly. "I failed" I said moodily, stomping through the hall.
"Oh that's a shame! I failed mine too the first time!"
I have to admit I was a bit shocked. Despite the fact that he and my ma don't get on, the way she goes on about him sometimes, you'd swear that he was capable of everything! I felt slightly mollified by this confession and because it was only 10am in the morning, I opted for a cup of tea rather than a litre of vodka...
I'm over it now and as soon as I find my theory test sheet, I'll rebook my test. In the meantime, I'll get out Grand Theft Auto IV and vent my frustrations on the Xbox and failing that, I'll do some overdue exercise on the Wii Fit - have I mentioned I am a mean hoola hooper?
The bambino's birthday was brilliant. It was more of a first birthday come let's celebrate a year of parenthood with a p*ssup party. As usual, I had to intervene on my ma and dad bickering about stupid stuff. It was a bit of mor-ti-fi-f*cking-cation when I walked into the sitting room and they were arguing about artificial insemination! My stepmother pleaded with her eyes at me.
"Seriously you two, have you nothing better to talk about? Dad, haven't you done enough insemination to last you a lifetime?" and my stepsister, stepmum and I giggled knowingly. No dad, I haven't forgotten when you sprung a new 14 year old sister on me five minutes before I met her... Anyway... Eventually we broke up the ridiculous argument by sending him to get vodka for the cocktails.
The bambino had a brilliant time. She was very suspicious at first. I think it was lots of people phoning up and singing tunelessly down the phone whilst she sat there with a bemused look. I had never heard a breathy, Marilyn Monroe type version of Happy Birthday...in an African accent before....
By the afternoon, she'd gotten over her diva ways and was lapping up the attention and the gifts. Singing happy birthday to her absolutely choked up the boyf and I. I was ready for a good blub! She looked so cute in her puff skirt and retro My Little Pony t-shirt and she was singing and clapping along in our arms. She even managed to push the knife down to cut her cake (we ordered a white chocolate coverered one with fresh fruits and marzipan animals decorating it) although I warned her about the perils of knife crime.
Afterwards the boyf put on Stevie Wonders happy birthday and we had great fun getting every person (there were just over 20 of us) to pose for pictures with her. The bambino loved the song and pumped her chubby little legs furiously and shrieked with delight.
Later, with everyone a bit the worse for wear, we played Who Wants to be a Millionaire on the Wii in two teams of 8. My ma got herself in trouble for forgetting what team she was on and answering for both sides....
The boyf, the bambino, and I are off to Majorca for two days with M, her boyfriend, and the bambino's godfather who owns a bar out there which is reopening for the season. Me thinks I shall be combing the great shops in Palma and taking the bambino to the beach by day, and getting drunk by night. Woohoo!
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