Friday, the girls arrive from London

Well it’s Friday evening and I picked up the girls from the airport this afternoon. What was all the fuss about I wonder.

The ex has been on the phone more times than I can remember.

“Are you sure the flat is big enough, it’s not a hostel?” ( A hostel, I ask you)

“ Has it got hot water? “ (no, we wash in the river)

“ How old is this boy?” (he’s 23 and has 37 previous convictions)

“ You won’t let them go to Prague, will you?” (yes, I’ll take them myself & sell them into the sex-slave trade)

She also phoned Mum loads of times, but Mum re-assured her. I was then warned of an incoming calls. Sod the re-assurance.

So, the ex drove them to Stansted and I picked them up today.

It’s not just the ex who’s been acting up. Honza, Dagmars boy has been up in the air about this too. He spent ages in the bathroom, he’s shaved all the fluff off his chin, spent another 20 minutes in front of the mirror removing and hiding 2 spots from his forehead. He came out smelling a bit fragrant, he’d used the best part of a bottle of aftershave.

Teenagers will always be strange, they only speak to other teenagers, to anyone else it’s just Yeh or No or Dunno. When I picked up Katie and her friend it just like this.

Kate wanted to sit in the back of the car with her friend, who I now know is Jessica. Dinner was quiet and a bit pungent with Honza’s aftershave. Now they’re out, Honza’s showing them round town. He got a grunt of approval, when they saw him, and Honza spoke his first ever word in English today.

We couldn’t believe it, he said “Hello” amazingly followed by “How are you?”

The answer was “Yeh, ok”