In The Trenches.....

What is it with kids,sickness and the early morning hours? Two does seem to be the magic number...2 am that is. Never 2pm. 2 warm,daylight hours,local chemist is still open, you can call someone for help,all will be well pm. Even if my lot have been ill during the day and I get them off to bed,all snuggled up,thinking the worst is over,the clock hand hits that magic number and hey presto. The various mini orifices of hell open their doors widely and souse any bed sheets and PJs unluckily in the vicinity.2am.....when it feels like the entire universe has conked out,when the darkness seems like a deceitful well wisher peering in through your windows and you can almost smell the peat torches burning as mummies wearing furry bikini type thingies from a millennium ago kept watch over young from marauding predators. Or that's what it seems like after zero sleep anyway.

As I place buckets in strategic positions,I suddenly get a flashback of Grandpa and the Van Dyke guy from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang in the scene where Grandpa is complaining about the rain coming through his roof.I wish.....Beloved Bat Boy suddenly sits up in bed,screams something unintelligible and while my sleep deprived brain is trying to translate,an avalanche of what looks suspiciously like last night's Nikku Jagger (Noooo...Not the singer.It's a Japanese broiled meat dish.) launches itself with the velocity of an incoming meteor from outer space in my direction. I grab a bucket and manage to catch most of the torrent. 'Every cloud has a silver lining'.Even ones floating in a dark,dark sky at 2 am in the morning.I'm getting pretty sprightly at this goalie lark.You've got to watch the peas though.They're like metal pellets.Found one embedded in the plaster earlier.When I am in my eighties....maybe even nineties and folk comment on how agile and supple I am for my age,I will reply."It was all those early mornings up with my kids,jumping around the bedrooms,buckets in hands,deflecting rivers of ......"I keep shouting out to my kids "In the bucket,please" but they don't seem to be listening.Never mind,from experience,we've got a few more hours to get it right.

From downstairs,I hear my loyal comrade, the washing machine wind down from her spin mode.She totally understands the 2am factor too.Many a morn,I've lain my weary head across her top,the warmth and motion lulling me away for a few precious seconds. I'd pour a beer into the 'softener' tray if I thought it would ease the poor beleaguered thing.Summers in Tokyo mean that you can hang out your washing in the middle of the night and awake to it crispy dry.

The bedroom soon fills with the sighs of deep,contented sleep as dawn shakes her head and prises open sleep crusted eyes. The lucky so and so......

Walking Munchies For The Mosquitoes.

I only have myself to blame.I take complete and utter culpability for the situation I now find myself facing. A state of affairs so dire that my whole mental stability is threatening to commit mutiny.I don't know what overcame me....how on earth it escaped me but I forgot the mosquito repellent. The life saving lotion my mother dutifully sends over every May in preparation for summer. Forget botox...forget age defying creams that instantly lift the contours of the face to retrieve that youthful look...or Bobby Brown dark circle concealer,I just cannot live without my mosquito repellent lotion.I mean,do you think Catherine Zeta Jones or Kate Winslett would look as gorgeous as they do,covered in red,itchy,swollen blotches -constantly swearing under their breath as they endure another marathon itching session with broken off nails? Where would all that beauty paraphernalia get them then? I quickly swivel my head down in the direction of my calf.A deliciously,tempting piece of bare skin upon which ten and more black intruders now brazenly scoff.I can hear the crackling of radio as more circumnavigate my lower leg on their ascending flight paths. A speedy right palm slap takes five of the rogues out, stunning two as the rest of the cowards fly for the hills,throttles up. I watch as my three kids race around the park,their laughter tinkling along with a glass fish chime hanging in a nearby balcony.Summer in Japan is incredibly beautiful.....experienced gazing through a window,sipping green tea in an air-conditioned room.A room that is mosquito free,I hasten to add.My children are half Japanese and could be outdoors all day if I let them,only to return with two bites at the most.I,on the other hand attract the little fiends by the minions.I have this image of myself,engulfed in one huge buzzing cloud whenever I step outside in summer.One doctor told me that it is due to my blood being so healthy. Well,at the rate I am going I'll need a transfusion soon.Image of a mummified me on a park bench,lips curled back in pain,one hand curled for one last scratch suddenly flashes before me.I eye the UVA/bug net on the child buggy. Maybe if I wrap it around me from head to toe,they won't be able to get at me.Maybe if I wrap it around me and run around screaming,they might give up and go for easier drillings? It's not like I have any street cred left,I have three young kids and a face covered in red,angry blotches.I swiftly deliver a double palm slap to my face making the local drunk on the next bench lurch in surprise.The satisfaction of seeing those red ink blotches on my hand far outweighs the stinging in my cheeks.......plus the immense comfort gained from that quick whiff of Dove anti sweat zone and the knowledge that at least my armpits are still in great shape even if the rest of the exposed me looks like a smallpox victim. Forget the botox,forget the.......