We're gonna partyyyyyyyyy!!!
My adorable 7-year-old daughter, the Little Lady bounded into the room in a series of spins, leaps and excited screams.
I looked up from the utterly insane flat earth video I was watching on YouTube in which a twot who looked as if he spent far too much time indoors admiring his very own globe model, was yelling incoherently that there was no such thing as the sky.
Party?
I asked with a rakish raising of an eyebrow?
It might sound harsh but I suspected my daughter and I had dramatically differing ideas of partying.
Yeah!! Partyyyyyy!! MASSIVE PARTY! Lots of partying and sweets and PARTY GAMES!!!
She yelled as she twirled around me in a blinding blizzard of skirts and youthful enthusiasm.
Party games..?
I said making a face as if she had announced she had had an accident and someone was going to have to trot upstairs and clean it up.
Yeah, party games!! They will be so much fun. Its gonna be awesome!
She ran around shrieking with glee as if we weren't all trapped in the house and bored shitless due to Lockdown.
I twitched slightly as if something was burrowing into my back pipe.
I hated kids parties.
Moments later the door burst open again and the Little Boom ran in, he too had been infected by the party bug and was screaming and jumping up and down with excitement.
Daddy... Daddy, ee play party game!!
He shouted happily.
I grimaced.
I was unsure of what was going on. I had a funny feeling that my idea of party games versus the children's idea of party games were quite substantially far apart from one another.
Mines probably involved more strippers and cocaine than was physically achievable (you always gotta aim high, I say) and theirs more Pin the tail on the Donkey and Pass the Parcel.
The Good Lady breezed in and I breathed a sigh of relief. Thankfully, she would be able to shed some light on the nonsense being spouted by my brood.
No doubt it was all a huge misunderstanding.
After all, we were on lockdown. How could we have a MASSIVE party?
Hey, chicken-pie. You any idea what these two are wittering on about? They are saying something about a party?
I asked her, confident she would smack down the insane buffoonery of the children who were now whirling about the room in such a frenzy they were in danger of starting up a twister.
Oh, it's not a party.
Said the Good Lady with a reassuring grin.
Phew, thank goodness for that.
I exclaimed, happy now that the kids could be squeezed back into the sullen box of oppression that Lockdown had become.
No, it's not a party. It's more of a supper, nibbles and party music affair with my family up North. We are going to use that House Party app and do it on the laptop webcam.
She beamed at me.
I recoiled as if she had dabbed me with a cold lady-bit.
A webcam supper party with your family up North?
Yes, it will be fun. In fact, we are going to have 6 separate webcams joining and each will have multiple people and we will eat and drink and chat and be merry.
The Good Lady's eyes sparkled manically.
Won't it be fun!
She warbled.
I stared at her as if I was witnessing a Finnish person sitting astride a Pelican, eating fondue.
6 Webcams, multiple people on each one. All screaming and shouting through my tinny laptop speakers?? Holy bahjingo?!!?
I willed myself to die but nothing happened.
Damn. Oh well.
I grinned in answer to the Good Lady as if I wasn't about to undergo the lockdown equivalent of having the head of your penis a wee bit cheese-grated.
Yes. It will be ace.
