Black ice, booties, no school, altercations, escaping and Caz and Gaz Wedding date!

Please note the lovely photograph of our delightful youngest boy! Do not be fooled; he is a little g*t! (many stars may appear in my blogs over the next blogging; firstly because my mother will be reading this and secondly because there is a need for it).

Max's school was closed today, black ice etc. The school, being very up-to-date, sent a text message (at 07.04am) informing me of the fact but me being not so very up-to-date and probably a bit busy didn't bother to read it until 5 minutes before we were due to leave. This was no great shakes as we almost live opposite the school. Max, of course, was delighted with lots of whoops of pleasure and "yes, yes, yes" whilst punching skinny arms in the air. This initial joy rapidly diminished when I informed him a trip to the supermarket was needed. Max, like most boys, does not like shopping in fact I would go so far to say he hates it. Anyway, after a few words, the T.V. was put on while mummy started her 'maid' duties (pockets frisked for memory sticks etc!) and told him we would go in a bit. Max was in a difficult mood and very quickly the morning quickly declined in to one of several 'altercations' (Mum/Grandma knows about these). He quickly decides he's going outside, coat, hat and wellies on, then backpack from his room + a blanket, he's decided he's leaving home and tells me "I'll need a blanket for when I'm sleeping on the streets and I'll need a bowl to get money from people too." Great, he's already learnt about the welfare system in the U.K. that's my boy! Calling his bluff I wish him farewell, this is not the first time he's done this so I play along - you know what I mean. Off he trots out the back door and into the back garden where we are surrounded by several other back gardens and the only real escape route is blocked by a pointed topped wooden gate (always locked) that's over 6ft high in someone else's driveway. After a few minutes he's already been and come back, but not before dropping his furry hat (which he'll probably use for begging) and his blanket into next doors garden, over he goes head first over their fence, retrieving the fallen goods and he's back again. Through the house, out the front door, and off he goes, by this stage I'm outside, still calm (and for those who know me this is no mean feat) he's already coming back and I casually suggest he probably needs a few provisions that we can buy in Morrisions if we go now. The journey to the car from our front door is the real test. We get to the car, 2 seconds gone, and he's gone, this time really gone. I go down the path, and next doors and the other next doors, I walk up the road. I start to call him, our neighbours over the road come out, are you looking for Max? (everyone around us knows him - infamous Armstrong hooligan) He went that way pointing the opposite to where I was going, off I go again, 5, 10 minutes, still no Max. The neighbours husband comes out, asks if I want any help, forever the independent woman I say "Oh no, he always comes back" very convincing, not. Another 5, 10 minutes, my Max calling is now getting a little strained I'm asking several people if they've seen a six year old, orange coat, front teeth missing, am now thinking "Sh*t, this is silly". Back I go to the house, running now I can see Rob the neighbour with the little monkey and he's having to man handle the little g*t so he won't run away. Once profuse thanks were given to our neighbours, I shoved him in the car and read out the riot act. I'm surprised family in Lincoln didn't hear me!! For family far away, the escapologist or Houdini has done this before, our holiday in Wales was a nightmare as he was still a pretty, blond curly haired bundle of naughtiness then being only 2 when he disappeared for nearly half an hour and was found half way up the mountainside talking to some chickens - all the residents in the local b&b's were out looking for him and we were minutes away from a police call. Anyway I digress, this was the start to my day off work and it was not a great one. Once we had got back from the shopping trip and had lunch I started to bake a cake which will not do anything for the muffin top thing but made me feel a lot better!

Taking of black ice I nearly fell on my booty yesterday, the path was extremely slippery, which reminds me that I properly hurt my booty (coccyx) at school 6 weeks ago. I went to sit down on a chair to play the piano at school (obviously in a Les Dawson manner) and missed the chair, wow that bl**dy hurt, several friends came to my aid - not that they could lift me (slight lie I don't quite weight 15 stone yet but if I keep eating the cake I've made .... enough, enough) . Couple of visits to the doctors, no sympathy at home, My walking stance was one of someone who had pooed themself, not an attractive sight in anyone over 2 years old! Spoke to my Dad and after a little bit of empathy (he'd done the same a couple of years ago, infact nearly every one, I tried to bore with my sore bottom tale - no pun intended, had a story to tell about their coccyx) said to me "did the kids cheer when you fell down?" thanks Dad!!

Brilliant News in: Carole and Gary have set a date for the wedding - 30 October 2010.

I've been set a task already by my minnie but mighty lil' sis - "You're doing the wedding favours", I haven't a clue what these are. I did ask her but she told me to "google it". Little sisters have no respect for their elder sisters. I do seem to recall her task during my wedding day which was to do with scowling for the whole day (yes, I know you were only 16 Carole but the whole flipping day) a marvellous and endearing Corthorn trait to which any of my dad's side the family will be fully aware of. Our eldest son Ben is a particularly good scowler this trait having leapt over his mother and landed on him. I've also been informed I'll be a bridesmaid - wow - long dress and waistline needed - help - somebody hide the cake. Is there an age limit for bridesmaids, it seems such a dated term, am I not too old? Perhaps 'old maid' or just 'maid' as I am referred to in the Armstrong residence. Mums, grannies, aunties, sisters, basically all the girls, will already be hat and dress shopping and have begun to think about the colour co-ordinations, flowers, hair styles, shoes, bags ....... all men visiting my blog will now, if not already, have fallen into a deep coma only to wake up if the words FOOTBALL, BOSOMS, FARTS or COMPUTERS are mentioned. Good night! P.S. fellas get your wallets at the ready!