It's all my fault Officer, I'll go quietly...

I am currently seeking solace in a rather large glass of wine.  It is all my own fault.

The hobbits have had what is medically described as an 'E-number overdose' today. In plain English terms it is simply, 'oh f*ck!'

Another mum at the school even warned me...she pleaded with me, begged me to see the error of my ways, but me, being the brave, idiot fool that I am ignored her advice.

Since half past four the hobbits have had an ice-cream, candy floss and some sweets, and just in case they hadn't had enough, (and wanting to test my stamina just that little bit more) I gave them a bowl of sugar to eat too.

Please be rest assured this is not a normal day - I don't
generally go round pumping skittles into my children
intravenously, it just happened that it worked out that
way. Ice-cream Friday at the school can't be ignored,
then there was some stall that was selling candy floss
to boost funds for the school, and there was a bag of
sweets in their bag from a child's birthday today -
so maybe it's the schools bloody fault?

However, since picking them up they have turned from their general chattering monkey like state into monkey's on speed - their speech is raised and squeaky, they are arguing, shouting and beating each other up like fat women after the last slice of pizza; (I recognise it cos I am one).

My head is pounding.
They have talked utter b**locks for the last two hours and I am completely worn out. E-numbers are like alcohol for kids. I have had to listen to conversations about who has the smelliest farts; who has the most superpowers; who could blow an ice-cube down their nose and who could bounce on the sofa continously for 5 minutes... It's like being witness to a frat party - they even had the munchies and raided the kitchen for sandwiches to soak up their drug filled binge.

Two out of three of them even had a punching contest - not each other, but themselves... They are now finally upstairs with Bolt - that would be the film not a device keeping their mouths shut, however tempting that would be.

So I am now alone with my wine, and personally - I blame the parent. Where are the police when you need them? A nice cosy night in a police cell would give me some peace and quiet...