Friday 10 June 2016

Peter and Jane and the Summer Fete.



Today, Mummy is taking Peter and Jane to the Summer Fete at school.

Mummy would rather be putting pins in her eyes.

Summer Fetes, Mummy feels, should be held in the grassy grounds of the Vicarage, with Miss Marple skipping about to the jolly tones of the local brass band, twirling her pearls as she solves the pleasantly bloodless murder of the nice, young Vicar, who has been offed for discovering a Dark Secret about one of his parishioners.

The Dark Secret would hopefully be that Perfect Lucy Atkinson's Perfect Mummy has a raging cocaine habit that she supports by working as a high class call girl.

Instead the Summer Fete is held in the barren, concrete waste ground of the school playground.

Mummy still has her suspicions about Perfect Mrs Atkinson though.





Peter and Jane arrive at the Summer Fete with Mummy.

A black cloud reeking of charred animal fat and burning sugar drifts across the playground.

Peter and Jane are very excited. 

"MONEY MONEY MONEY!!!!" Peter and Jane chant at Mummy.

"CANDYFLOSS CANDYFLOSS CANDYFLOSS!" they howl.

"BURGER BURGER BURGER!" they scream.


In a futile attempt at parenting, Mummy decrees that the candyfloss must come after the burger.

Perfect Mr Atkinson is manning the barbecue.

He does not look quite so perfect today, he looks quite hot and sweaty.

"That will be £15!" says Mr Atkinson brightly.

"What the actual fuck?" says Mummy.

Mr Atkinson looks wounded.  "It is for the school!" he tells Mummy "The Fete is to raise money for the children.  Won't you think of the children?"

Mummy prefers not to think of the children if she possibly can.

Since Mummy had to pay £15 for three Burgers of Death, she nibbles at hers tentatively, but she cannot shake the thought that Mr Atkinson has possibly sweated onto it. 

Mummy has paid £15 to eat Mr Atkinson's sweat. 

Mummy puts her burger in the bin.





"CANDYFLOSS!!!!" snarl Peter and Jane.

"Oh, fuck it." thinks Mummy "It is not like they can get any more hyper, can they?"

On the way to the candyfloss stall, they pass the Home Baking Stand, where Perfect Mrs Atkinson is standing, steely eyed and ruthless.

"Buy cake!" Mrs Atkinson orders Mummy.

"Errrr." says Mummy, eyeing the dispirited selection of lop sided Victoria sponges, brick-like banana loaves and strange lumpen things that may or may not be scones.

"Of course, you're too late for my cupcakes." says Mrs Atkinson smugly.  "You have to be quick for them, they sold out immediately."

"Oh, do shove your perfect fucking cupcakes up your perfect fucking arsehole." thinks Mummy, as she finally decides one of the pissed sponge cakes is the safest bet.  

"£7.50" says Mrs Atkinson "FOR THE CHILDREN." she adds menacingly, as Mummy hands over a tenner with a whimper.

"Oh dear" says Mrs Atkinson "I don't seem to have any change left.  I tell you what, I'll pop in a couple of these lovely scones and we'll call it £10."





Jane has spotted pony rides.  

"POOOOOOONNNNNNNYYYYYYY" screeches Jane as she dashes towards the dejected pony trudging in circles.

Meanwhile, Peter has spotted the tombola, and is racing towards that.

Mummy gives up trying to keep Peter and Jane together and hurls money at Peter while she runs after Jane, ponies seeming more dangerous to Mummy than the innocent fun of a tombola.

Mummy and Jane wait in the queue for the pony rides.

Perfect Lucy Atkinson is ahead of them in the queue.

"Can I have a pony, Daddy?" says Lucy.

"Maybe, Poppet, I will have a chat to Mummy about it." says Mr Atkinson.

"Thank you, Daddy, that sounds a most reasonable answer, and I'm sure what ever you and Mummy decide will be the right thing to do." says Lucy.

"Can I have a pony, Mummy?" says Jane.

"No." says Mummy.

"Why not?" says Jane.

"Because I say so." says Mummy.

"I WANT A FUCKING PONY!  PONY PONY PONY!" bellows Jane.

"Oh God, if I say I will think about it, will you stop screaming?" says Mummy.





Jane has had five three minute pony rides at five pounds each, when Mummy remembers Peter and the tombola.

Peter is glassy eyed in front of the tombola, surrounded by discarded tickets.  It seems in her haste Mummy gave Peter a twenty pound note, not a fiver, and Peter appears to be showing all the early signs of a gambling addiction.

Peter has won a cracked vase; a box of soap that expired in 1998; a set of drawer liners to match the soap; a bottle of 'Bulgarian Country Wine' and a terrifying plaster model of a clown.

However, these prizes are as nothing to Peter: he is playing to win the battered box of Lego that is still up for grabs.

"More money!" he grunts at Mummy.




Mummy has finally managed to drag Peter and Jane out of the Summer Fete.

Mummy has spent £75, and has nothing to show for it except Peter's tombola prizes; inedible cakes; a possible case of salmonella and a headache.

Mummy is going home to drink the Bulgarian Country Wine and anything else alcoholic she can get her hands on.

"Don't forget about my pony!" says Jane for the twenty ninth time in five minutes.











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