Oh sod off, will ya?
Bloody Nora, when will it end?!
Firework after firework for four days straight, with more to come tomorrow and I am well and truly over it.
I’m not normally such a curmudgeon. I usually love a festivity and the excuse to tat-up the house (you should see it at Christmas) but bonfire night is different.
Before kids, I loved fireworks. They’re exciting, gorgeous, just the right amount of dangerous and let’s not forget the smell.
But now, as a parent of two very young children, fireworks are nothing but a pain in my fat arse.
Don’t get me wrong, we’ve had a few ourselves, but at 6pm, like reasonable people and they lasted all of ten minutes. But the people letting them off at 10 and 11 o’clock at night are monsters who should be strung up by their ging-gang-goolies.
Not only is it too much for all the little babes trying to sleep, but there are pets up and down every street in severe distress and I hate the thought of that.
I look forward to the day when my two are older and I don’t have to sit anxiously watching their baby monitors every time another boom fills the night sky.
I can’t wait for the day when they’re not too small to actually enjoy a fireworks display. Posey’s too scared at the moment and only lasted for two quiet whizzy ones in our garden before the third went off and sounded like a load of Chinese firecrackers, sending her running into my arms crying ‘not me Mummy, not me’.
I long for seeing the glitter-filled sky reflected in their eyes, the warmth of a huge (verging on out of control) council-run bonfire warming our toes, while we drink over indulgent hot chocolate and eat rat dogs from a dodgy van. Everyone all bundled up in every item of clothing they own because it’s bloody cold Oop Norf.
Isn’t that what childhood is all about? Those brilliant, long-lasting memories, made in ridiculous conditions.
But right now, I just want a bit of quiet so I can watch the new version of Sabrina The Teenage Witch on Netflix (don’t judge me) and not have to worry about anybody waking up and needing a cuddle.
I may have a cheeky hot chocolate though, in the spirit of things.