Saturday, 23 June 2012

The Torch!

The Olympics are in London this year. Yes really they are - did you not know? How could you have missed that?

Of course you know. EVERYBODY knows. You can't even pop out for a loaf of bread without bumping into Team GB wrist strap, or a Team GB mug, or a Team GB T shirt... or a Team GB rubber duck. RUBBER DUCK? Really? Yes. Really.

Yes, every one knows about the Olympics. Especially my 4yo. He knows EVERYTHING!

He knows about all the races, running AND jumping ones, and he knows that they are in London where the Queen lives (The Queen who just had a party). He knows all about Wenlock and Mandeville, in fact Wenlock came for a sleepover. He knows all about The Union Jack AND he knows about The Torch! Oh yes he knows all about The Torch.

That Torch
Yes that Torch. The one that was coming to our sleepy little town and lighting it up. Yes his school were very excited about the torch. They've been watching videos, mapping its progress, making paper mache torches, doing a torch collage, drawing in it charcoal, making a display... they had done it all.

They had a torch calendar to count down the days and they were even putting on a family Olympic breakfast on Torch Day

So there was no way we could not go to watch the procession. No way. All weekend O was rabbiting on about it and then on the morning of Torch Day the first thing he said when he woke up was: "I'm so excited to see the torch"

But it was OK because I had prepared for it. It didn't matter that we had to be on the main road at 7.50 am when on most school mornings it's an achievement to get there at 8.50am. Or that The FH would be leaving even earlier because of possible road closures. No that didn't matter because I could do this. I washed my hair the night before. I had everyones' outfits ready and I would just get up an hour earlier. Simple!

Every thing was going so well. The predicted down pour was in fact bright blue skies and brilliant sunshine, my hair was done, the boys were dressed...  I had even found a black shirt dress in my wardrobe that I hadn't worn since having kids, which was once a size "too small" and now fit with "room to spare".We did have a moment when we thought there may be a "missing shoe" disaster, but alas, it was under the couch. I'd even had time to put on make up - lipstick too, which I never wear, but it's a once-in-a-life-time event huh?

I quickly rang my sister and mum to see if they were going and planned to meet them there. It was on these phone calls I discovered that The Torch was not actually arriving at the church till 8.05. But I poo-pooed this; I would aim for 7.50 regardless, just to be safe.

But it only takes one thing doesn't it

Just one.

Turns out our "one thing" was poo! Runny poo running out the side of middle child's nappy and into his shorts and shoes. Runny poo up his back and on his T shirt. Runny poo I had to clean whilst he squirmed and wriggled off the mat and around the living room. Runny poo that trailed behind him. Runny poo that took two thirds of a packet of wipes to clean. Runny poo that took so long to clean the baby screamed and screamed. Runny poo that meant a new out fit, new shoes and a new changing mat were needed. Runny poo that darling little O tried his hardest to help me clean up so he wouldn't miss the torch...

Runny fucking poo!

But it was OK. Because the whole time I was thinking "It's OK, It's not expected till 5 past"

So at just before eight, we left the house, the two little ones strapped in the double buggy. Both red faced with hot tears and Little O frantically running ahead. 30 metres down the road  I spotted my friend casually strolling down and I this filled me with hope -"Great we must be on time". It failed to register with me that said friend is notoriously late. Then...When the main road was in sight... And the crowds and flags could be seen in force... Just at that moment when the stress started to trickle away... I saw them all fall backwards, like rats deserting a ship and my heart dropped out of my size-14-shirt-dress and smashed on the floor!

My friend stopped, turned, caught sight of me and smiled "I think we've missed it". I looked at O. His face crumpled. He tried not to cry. But he did.  Next thing I was hugging him, apologising into his ear as he wiped snot, tears and anger into my black shirt dress.

This is what we missed.

Look at the blue skies! Have that Cumbria!

We pretty much saw every one we knew on that road, as I stood hugging him feeling like the worst parent on the planet, looking surprisingly over-dressed and made up for that time in the morning. And everyone who stopped to see what the matter with sobbing O was looked at me accusingly when I explained we had missed it. I read their thoughts :"I see you had time to put lipstick on though"

We headed up to the school, for the celebratory breakfast but the deflated Samsung advertising batons had more enthusiasm than us.

When we got there, the rats were fleeing again; the school's gas was off and there was no bacon butties! We didn't bother going in. We just waited for the gates to open. The boys ran about, O was pretty much over it, where as me... I just stood there, letting the guilt nibble away.

I couldn't go on FB that day. It was full of updates an pictures of how fabulous it had been. It was like missing Christmas all over again!

I texted the FH. You know, being a PE teacher and all, I thought he would have something to say about it. But he didn't. Instead he fixed it. And this is why I love him.

A lad he teaches had been a torch bearer the previous day and he would bring his torch into school so Oscar could go and see it and get his picture taken with it. Our hero.

My bacon (or should I say beacon) was saved...

Middle child holding up an equally important packet of Walkers Ready Salted.

And we all stood there, admiring O and the torch. Us, the torch bearer and half the staff. The FH takes this moment to ask him "Is it good to hold the torch?"

Do you know what he said...

"Yeah. But it's just like the one like the one that came into my school!"

Anyway we got our first photograph of the five us - sorry six, let's not forget the fucking torch!

 I actually look a lot better in real life. The torch looks the same.